


Red Diamond

by MalevolentReverie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Addiction, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BIG power imbalance here, Blood, Blood Drinking, Brace yourselves, Controlling Kylo Ren, Daddy Kink, Darkfic, Drugged Sex, Exploitation, F/M, Heavy Angst, Human Rey, Human/Vampire Relationship, Just borrows ideas from True Blood, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not a True Blood AU, POV First Person, POV Rey (Star Wars), Possessive Kylo Ren, Power Imbalance, Praise Kink, Probation Officer/Parolee, Restraints, Romanian pet names, Supernatural Elements, That I googled, Vampire Bites, Vampire Kylo Ren, Vampires, but like, condescending praise kink, it’s about to get wacky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:42:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23971759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalevolentReverie/pseuds/MalevolentReverie
Summary: Rey is a human addicted to vampire blood and has spent the last decade trafficking it for her foster father. After she’s caught and given probation, she thinks it’s a sign to turn her life around, but her vampire probation officer is determined to make that impossible.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 1309
Kudos: 1627
Collections: Ijustfellintothissendhelp





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Красный бриллиант](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24154861) by [Tersie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tersie/pseuds/Tersie)
  * Translation into Português brasileiro available: [Diamante Vermelho](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26397664) by [fernandafsw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fernandafsw/pseuds/fernandafsw)



> HOHOHOHOHO this has a lot of elements from true blood the only valid vampire show

“How long have you been addicted to vampire blood, Rey?”

A dozen eyes in a ring around the sharing circle turn in my direction. Blinking. Curious.

I’m sitting on a cold metal chair that’s sticking to my bare thighs—how long have I been addicted to vampire blood? Technically I’m one week clean; _technically_ I’m not an addict if I’m not using anymore. Right?

A fan twists gently overhead. I scratch my neck and shrug, desperate to get the group’s eyes off me. I hate group therapy. I should’ve let them throw me in jail.

“Decade?” I mumble.

“And how do you feel without it?”

Someone coughs. We’re all fidgeting, deeply uncomfortable and miserable and all forced to be here. I think I’m the only blood addict. I shrug, looking down at my hands trembling in my lap. Ashamed.

“Empty.”

—•—

The judge lets me off easy—eighteen months probation if I cooperate with the police and tell them what I know about vampire blood trafficking in Seattle. It’s not much. I’m a small fish in a big pond but I spill about my foster father, Unkar, and how he roped me in to selling when I was just a kid, and he always told me it doesn’t hurt anyone.

She takes pity. The judge. I’m not sure I deserve her pity but I take it anyway and figure it’s a call to get my life back on track.

“Kylo Ren will be your probation officer. You’ll report to his office tomorrow at nine or your probation will be revoked.”

After the hearing I’m shuffled into a cramped office to sign paperwork agreeing to the conditions of my probation. I’m sweating from withdrawal, anxious to comply and avoid prison, so I sign the thing without really reading it while two bailiffs and the secretary stare. They’re doing me a favor. I didn’t even get a felony charge.

The secretary snatches back the paper once it’s signed and hands me another on the worn wooden counter. Letters blend, making a weird alphabet soup I can’t quite read. I hate reading.

“I’ve been going to group therapy,” I say, signing the paper the best I can. “Do I tell him?”

“Yes. It’s going to be required going forward.”

She tells me a lot of other things I’m too distracted to listen to. Mr. Ren can search my house whenever he wants, I can’t leave the county, something about not doing drugs. I nod along and sign something else before the bailiffs lead me out of the office.

I stop at the bottom step of the courthouse, stuffing my hands in my pockets to hide the shaking. Overcast today. That’s why vampires love Seattle.

—•—

“Just be polite, okay? This guy is going to set the terms of your probation.”

I’m bright and early for my meeting with my probation officer, dropped off by my friend Rose. She fiddles with my blouse for the hundredth time and my wet hair—it’s pouring rain and we _both_ forgot an umbrella. Maybe he’ll be nice to me if he sees my nipples.

I nod, huffing. “I know, I know.”

“And you have that paperwork they asked you to fill out, right? Hux did most of it for you—his contact number is there too if anything looks wrong.”

Rose and I grew up on the same street. Her life is in infinitely better shape than mine, and her snobby lawyer fiancé is actually helping me out. I’ve got a job doing data entry in the huge firm where he works and they found me a cheap garden apartment. Mostly because Hux can’t stand me.

I pluck the envelope from my jacket and she breathes a sigh of relief, nodding. She flings her arms around my waist and squeezes tight.

“I’m so proud of you, Rey. It’s going to be ok—everything will be fine.”

“Jesus, Rose, I’m going to a meeting, not being shipped off to war.”

“I know. Sorry.” Her embrace turns suffocating. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

She lets go and hurries down the steps to her Acura. I wave goodbye before I turn to squint up at the old building looming in the pouring rain. Creepy.

It’s decrepit inside, like the courthouse where I was first sentenced, and the unpleasant smell of must hangs heavy in the air. I shut the door behind me and shiver, eyes wandering over the old floral wallpaper and black crown molding to a desk where a man is sitting in front of a Mac. He types and ignores my nervous approach, letter clutched in my hands.

I hesitate. “Um… I’m here to see Mister Ren?”

“Name?”

“Rey Niima.”

The secretary types. It echoes in the silent, cavernous room.

“Have a seat, Miss Niima.”

I mumble a thank you and offer him my letter but he gives me a dirty look so I sit in one of the antique chairs. Unkar had me do a lot of odd jobs as a kid and my inner scavenger runs the numbers on the piece: probably eight hundred bucks to the right buyer. It’s in great shape and looks like they reupholstered the cushion.

Silence stretches on. The secretary, Mitaka, keeps typing and answers a few calls, politely ignoring me. At least I’m not late.

“You can go in.”

I look up and Mitaka raises his eyebrows expectantly. I hurry to my feet and be points me to the back, giving instructions to go down a hallway to the last door on the left. I thank him before I go. Ok. It’s going to be fine. The judge already decided to give me probation and I have a place to live, a job, and I’m in therapy. I’m doing everything right.

Paintings line the hall down to the last door. There’s a golden plate with REN, KYLO in big bold letters and I take a second to gather myself outside. Okay. Be polite. You’re doing everything right.

I knock and hear a deep voice tell me to come in. Heart pounding, I enter the office.

It’s chock full of bookshelves stuffed with books, up to the ceiling and all neatly organized like a library. I pause as I step inside, eyes widening at the sight of them—I’ve never seen so many in one place—and my gaze wanders to an enormous desk in the middle of the room.

Kylo is hard to miss. He’s big, with black hair down to his shoulders and a slightly tight dark blue dress shirt. Sleeves are rolled back to his elbows and he’s typing on his Mac, but stops to peer at me over the rim of his glasses resting on the bridge of his long nose.

“Miss Niima,” he says. He gestures to one of the antique chairs in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat.”

I wipe my hand on my blouse and offer it out to him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Mr. Ren raises an eyebrow at the gesture. I withdraw my hand and redden as I sit in the soft chair. Okay.

He opens a drawer and slaps a manila folder on his desk. It’s very neat. Nothing in the office is out of place, and it doesn’t smell as musty as the rest of the building. A window is open though, so it’s a little cold, but I’m not about to complain.

He opens the folder with the tip of his pinkie. “The terms of your probation have already been decided per my suggestions to the Judge Eckhert after reviewing your initial intake interview with…” He leafs through a bunch of papers with my signature. “Miss Rudnitsky.”

“Do you have a, uh… like a cheat sheet? So I remember—”

“Did you bring the paperwork from the courthouse?”

I nod quickly and offer the envelope with Hux’s name on the front. Mr. Ren glances at it and raises an eyebrow, lips pressing into a thin line.

“Armitage Hux?”

“He’s my friend’s fiancé. He’s a lawyer.”

“I’m aware of who he is.”

He runs a thick finger under the seal and I look at my hands. I’m not sure why Hux is helping me. I committed the worst crime possible against his species and I’m getting off easy for it. Any other vampire would kill me in retaliation, but Hux loves Rose and she insisted he help.

I’m asking too much of a lot of people lately.

Mr. Ren flips through the papers with my address and job and other relevant things Hux filled out for me. I wait, wringing my hands.

“And he gave you a job, I see. Isn’t that nice?”

“Yeah,” I mutter. “I’ve been going to group therapy. I’ve been clean for a week.”

He tilts his head, leaning back in his chair. His jaw is tight. I’m annoying him even though I feel like I’m doing everything right.

“So… Miss Niima, to clarify.” Mr. Ren rubs his jaw. “You’ve spent the last decade trafficking immortal blood—something _you_ , a human, are strictly forbidden from—then convinced an immortal to protect you from the consequences of your crimes.” His dark eyes narrow, boring a hole through me. “Am I summarizing correctly?”

“…Yes.”

“Ah. Good.” His mouth twists in a cold smile. “I thought you were just a selfish, indolent addict, but I was mistaken: you’re a sociopath.”

It suddenly feels like I swallowed an ice cube. I stare at him, stunned, and he just stares back at me with the amused smile on his face. What? Socio… path?

I shake my head, steadily faster. “No—no, I’m not—”

“Exploiting others seems to be the only skill you have,” he interrupts. “But I’m sure you’ll be fulfilled typing away in some asbestos-infested basement until carpal tunnel cuts your irrelevant, pathetic little _career_ short.”

I gape at him, stunned again, just shaking my head. What did I do? Why is he so angry? Are they allowed to act like this?

Tears well up and my lower lip quivers. I look down at my hands again, riddled with scars and calluses, and fight the overwhelming urge to cry. I don’t understand what I did wrong. I’m paying the price for what I did and if he just understood how it all started, I don’t think he’d be such an asshole.

“You still haven’t figured it out, have you?”

Hesitant, I lift my gaze back to his, and see he’s still smiling at me, resting his temple on his index finger. I shake my head timidly.

Mr. Ren’s smile drops, upper lip curling for a split second—and two fangs click into place.

I can’t stop my startled sharp breath. He raises his eyebrows and stares at me, like I should’ve known, but his eyes are brown and vampire eyes are always red, so how could I have known? It’s not possible. Why would I have a vampire probation officer? Why would a vampire _be_ a probation officer?

He scratches his cheek absentmindedly as he draws in his fangs. “Judge Eckhert and I have known each other for many years. I was friends with her grandfather—saved his life during the First World War. When a blood trafficker comes across her desk, she’s kind enough to send them my way.”

Oh _no_. My stomach turns and I go still, sniffles fading. Oh no. This is the type of vampire that will kill me, and he could right now, and no one would care. I slighted his whole species; I committed the worst crime possible against them.

Mr. Ren stacks my paperwork neatly and returns it to the folder. He opens the drawer and sets it inside.

“Have your therapist send me their notes,” he says. “Hux is already aware he’s required to send me a report each week, and I’ll be by at some point to inspect your living situation.”

“Yes—yes sir. Sorry, sir.”

“You’ll be very sorry if I catch you with a single drop of vampire blood. Get out.”

Doesn’t have to tell me twice. I bolt from the office without another word, rushing down the hall out out into the cool, rainy afternoon.

I clutch my head in my hands and sink to the ground. I’m so fucking screwed. I’m _so_ fucking screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

“How did it go?”

Rain is falling harder by the time Rose picks me up. I’m wet and miserable and hesitate as I put on my seat belt. _How did it go?_

I shrug, avoiding her eyes and clicking the belt.

“Fine. He was nice.”

—•—

The meeting has me down in the dumps for a couple days but I feel much better after my first day of work. Hux takes the time to show me around the huge building, clipped and terse like he always is, and everyone is welcoming and friendly. It’s truly _huge_ , and modern, with lots of expensive art and white washed walls and stainless steel. Nothing like Mr. Ren’s office.

I’m guiltier than ever over Hux jumping through hoops to help me so I’m determined to do a good job. I owe him my life. Him and Rose. I smile at everyone and shake hands and do my best smalltalk. I’m wearing a green dress Rose picked out after Hux told her I looked like a prostitute in red.

“I’m not your supervisor,” Hux reminds me as he shows me to my cubicle. He points a long finger across the room. “Mister Dameron is. Tell him if you have any issues.”

“Okay.” I nod and run my fingers over my new desk. It’s nice. “I read as much as I could from the binders you gave me.”

Hux raises his eyebrows. He’s tall and lanky and has neatly parted red hair, nothing like Mr. Ren—and his eyes are unmistakably red, too. Blood red.

He slips his hands in the pockets of his black suit. “Yes, Poe knows about your… issues. It’s mostly numbers and Rose told me you don’t have problems interpreting them.”

“Oh no, I’m pretty good at math. I think.” I shrug, smiling helplessly. “I dropped out before middle school so I guess I don’t know.”

“Yes. I know. Once things are more stable you’re going to go back to school.”

It’s not a question or a suggestion. Rose already insisted upon it and she’s right—I _do_ need to finish. But it’s daunting when I’m twenty years old; embarrassing to admit I never got to fourth grade. Kept holding me back because of the reading shit.

Hux and I exchange an awkward glance. He pats my shoulder like I’m a bomb.

“Good, then. Have fun.”

“Thank you,” I blurt. “Um… I know I’ve said it already, but—”

“Yes, yes,” Hux huffs, eyes darting. He waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve heard your sob story plenty of times from Rose and I don’t need to hear it again.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just Mister Ren—”

Hux snaps his attention back to me. He somehow turns paler, which is quite the feat for a vampire.

“Who?!” he hisses.

“Yeah, he said he knows you?”

“Kylo _Ren_ is your probation officer?” I nod and Hux rubs his face, groaning. “Rose didn’t fucking tell me that.”

“I didn’t really mention it to her.”

Hux keeps rubbing his face and shaking his head. He looks around once more and leans closer.

“Kylo is…” He hesitates. “Old blood. He has spent several _centuries_ punishing blood thieves, and I see not much has changed.” He rolls his lips and groans again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine—settle in and get to work. I’ll give him a call and see if I can’t smooth things over.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “That was who the judge gave me.”

“I’m sure it was deliberate. He probably intends on killing you within the next few weeks.”

My stomach turns but before I can ask anything more, my new supervisor comes over to introduce himself, and Hux rushes off with a grim look on his face. Holy shit. Kylo is going to kill me. The judge didn’t take pity on me; she gave me a death sentence.

Poe has a wide smile and a firm handshake and we sit down to go over the computer programs. I do my best to focus but my hands are sweating and my mind is racing. I don’t want to die. Maybe if he understood how I started taking blood and dealing—

“Everything okay, Rey?”

Mr. Dameron is frowning at me, head cocked. He’s very handsome: curly dark hair, square jaw, big, soft eyes. Nothing like Mr. Ren or Hux with their icy, unblinking stares.

I nod fast and clear my throat.

“I’m great. Can you show me that training video for Excel again, please?”

—•—

At the end of the day I get ready walk home alone because Hux is busy with an important client. Poe offers to give me a ride and says it’s not a problem, and I’d like to have _someone_ around in case Mr. Ren tries to kill me, so I accept.

“You did great today, by the way.”

Poe follows me to the door. I don’t mind—again, I could use the protection, and he’s not a small guy. I smile and thank him and he smiles back. He’s human. Not pale enough to be undead.

I open the door to the building. “Thank you, that means a lot. I’m sure Hux told you I’m not the best reader, so…”

“No big deal. You’re great with the numbers.”

It’s claustrophobic inside and smells musty. Not a new fancy building like where Rose and Hux live but it’s mine and gives me (and them) some privacy. I’m embarrassed as we walk in: chipped green paint, rickety stairs, and the unmistakable smell of weed.

I turn and laugh uncomfortably. “I don’t—I don’t do drugs. Not anymore.”

Poe laughs. He’s outside the door still which is good, because I probably wouldn’t say no if he followed me upstairs. Could I? I’ve never had a job that didn’t involve selling blood from a trunk, and I’ve never been on a date. Or around many men. Taking blood makes yours taste off to vampires so they usually steer clear.

“I used to do that stuff in college,” he says. “You know how it is. Experimenting.”

“Oh yeah. Totally.” No clue. “But it’s not worth it.”

“Nah, never is.” He smiles, turning away. “Good for you turning your life around, Rey. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, right?”

“Yes sir, seven o’clock!”

He points, teasingly. “Not a minute later.”

I nod and pretend to salute him and we laugh. He walks down the steps and I hang by the door for a minute to watch, tilting my head. He’s nice. Has a nice butt. Not that I’m—

“You’re late.”

I whirl around, heart racing at the cold voice. Kylo is standing halfway up the stairs in a long black trenchcoat, hands in his pockets, dark eyes watching me. He raises his eyebrows and takes out his hands to point to his wristwatch.

I hurriedly shut the door. “Sorry. Am I supposed to be home by a certain time?”

“That’s up to you, Miss Niima.”

 _Okay_. I nod, rushing up the stairs past him to my apartment on the third floor. Garden apartment no more. Hux found me one up higher. Stairs suck though.

Mr. Ren follows slowly and looms behind me as I struggle to unlock my door. I look over my shoulder and try to smile—please don’t kill me—and he stares at me in a blank way that’s worse than a glare. Please don’t kill me. I’m doing my best.

“Sorry,” I blurt. “Hands are shaking.”

“Perhaps you and Mister Dameron can use together.”

His expression doesn’t change. I stop, trembling so badly I’m scratching the door handle, and nod as I turn my attention to it.

“No—no.” I shake my head fast. “It’s bad. It’s wrong. I mean, I’m not doing it anymore.”

“Why don’t we take some of your blood today, Miss Niima? Just to be sure.”

The door unlocks and I keep nodding as I open it and make an awkward gesture for him to enter. He doesn’t, now actively glaring until I skitter inside first. My blood will come back clean so I’m not worried but I’m putting my foot in my fucking mouth. I hope Poe doesn’t get in trouble or anything.

My apartment is cramped and kind of dark but it’s not a total shithole. I have a bedroom and a clean bathroom and my living room has some mismatched furniture Hux found at an estate sale a hundred years ago. Pretty stuff. I’ve considered selling it but after the meeting with Mr. Ren and starting therapy, I’m not going to.

He ambles inside, looking around with all the disdain of an ancient vampire. I shut the door and try to fix my hair so I’m more presentable. 

“Isn’t this… quaint,” he says, punctuating the ‘t’. “Do you live here alone?”

“Yep, just me. I’m thinking about getting a cat.”

“I suppose that will save the city the cost of cleaning up your corpse when you die here alone.”

I bite my tongue as he begins circling my living room in languid steps. Jerk. Most vampires are jerks, but sometimes they meet a human that makes them less jerky and more tolerable. Rose and Hux, case in point.

There’s not a lot here for him to inspect. I haven’t done much decorating save for some calligraphy from a couple years ago that Rose framed; just our names done up nice. I’ve got a snake plant, too. It’s on the windowsill that gets some sunlight.

Mr. Ren pulls up my couch cushions and rummages around in my kitchen. I stay near the door while he searches, afraid I’ll get in trouble if I move.

“Did… did Hux call you today?” I ask.

“Your therapist didn’t. I need their notes by the end of the week.”

Fuck. I find my phone in my purse and make a note of it. I need proof I’m going or I’m in trouble.

Mr. Ren doesn’t say anything else while he searches. I’m antsy as hell because I need to pee and my heels hurt, but I don’t move, waiting until he wanders back my way. He looks extra tall and foreboding in my tiny apartment.

The second I reach down to take off a shoe, he snaps at me.

“I didn’t tell you to _move_ , Miss Niima. Did I?”

He’s glowering from near my couch, and it makes my spine tingle. I shake my head and slowly resume my position. Fuck. He’s going to get me thrown back in jail _or_ he’s going to kill me; I just know it.

His glare carries as his gaze meanders across my living room like it repulses him.

“I’ll return to sweep the apartment again. I expect you to be here.”

“Sure, if you could just tell me when—”

“Next Friday you need to come in to my office at noon. No other appointments available.”

“That’s right in the middle of my work day,” I say timidly. “I don’t want to ask for time off so soon after starting.”

Kylo shrugs. “Not my concern.”

Ugh. Annoyed, I just nod and type it into my phone. He ambles to the door, and I think he’s going to just open it and leave, but his coat brushes my arm. I stiffen, then freeze at his voice in my ear.

“I think this dreary dog cage is exactly what you deserve. Have a lovely evening, Miss Niima.”

Then he leaves. I don’t move until I think my bladder might burst. At least he didn’t take my blood. Not that I have anything to hide—but it seems wrong to let a vampire take my blood.


	3. Chapter 3

On Saturday I decide to visit Unkar in prison because I’m a glutton for punishment. I also feel bad about ratting him out and getting him put away for 20 years—visiting to talk to him for half an hour seems like the least I can do.

He’s lost some weight. He sits and picks up his phone, studying me with beady eyes. Orange suits him.

“Whaddya want?” he asks gruffly.

“Nothing. Just came to see you.”

Unkar snorts and barks a laugh. The officer standing a couple feet behind him shoots us a suspicious glance. It’s a high-security prison. Old. Crumbling walls and barbed wire fences that have seen better days.

My foster father shakes his head, still laughing. “Not great, thanks to _you_. Bet I got another week before they find me dead in the showers.”

“I’m sorry.” My fingers tighten around the phone. “I couldn’t keep doing that stuff. I had to—”

“You’re not takin’ blood anymore?”

He’s staring at me through his meaty fingers. I shake my head hesitantly and he shakes his, eyes widening.

“You have to keep takin’ it,” he says. He peers over his shoulder and back to me. “You have to.”

“I can’t. I can’t. I’m not helping you—”

“No, y’don’t get it.” Unkar is ashen, still shaking his head, and it’s annoying me. “You _have to_ , Rey. It’s not safe for you to stop.”

“Yes it is, and it’s all almost out of me now,” I snap. My knuckles tighten. “You can’t make me do anything anymore. I’m not selling for you.”

The officer is watching us now with much greater interest and I realize I should probably shut my mouth. Doesn’t matter, anyway. Unkar just wants to use me like he always does, like when he got me addicted to vampire blood all those years ago. He’s a selfish prick and he’ll always be a selfish prick.

He cups a hand over his receiver, lowering his voice. “I’m tellin’ you, girl—you gotta keep takin’ it. For your own good.”

“Fuck you.”

I hang up the phone and storm out without another word. I put on makeup for this. What a waste of time.

—•—

On Sunday I’m invited over for dinner with Rose and Hux, which is nice. I’m kind of lonely just going to work and walking home and keeping track of things for Kylo. I buy a chocolate pie with my first paycheck and bring it over like you’re supposed to at fancy dinners. Wear makeup again. It’s the most normal I think I’ve ever felt.

“Armie said Poe likes you a lot, Rey.”

Rose and I are eating chicken carbonara and Hux is politely sipping warmed-up blood in an opaque container. He nods when Rose nudges him.

“Yes,” Hux mutters, “it seems he does.”

“You’re doing great,” Rose adds, glaring at him. “Poe is really happy with your progress.”

“Oh, good.” I smile and sip my wine. “He’s really nice. Funny. Glad I’m not a complete pain in the ass.”

Hux drums his long fingers on the table. He hasn’t said anything else about Kylo since Monday and I’m concerned it’s bad. But Kylo also hasn’t been around to my apartment since Monday, so maybe not.

We’re all quiet for a few minutes, eating and sipping and not saying much. I hope the pie I bought is good.

“It’s been decided, Rey.”

Rose freezes up and shoots Hux an acidic look but he doesn’t acknowledge her, just stares at me, grim. My stomach twists up into my throat.

“Decided?” I echo.

“Kylo is old blood. A different _variety_ of vampire, descended from the prototypical vampire. What he commands isn’t up for debate.”

“Did you have to bring it up during dinner?!” Rose hisses.

Hux shrugs and gets a light slap on the arm. He drinks more blood and avoids my eyes, and I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.

“Blood theft is a serious crime,” he says, “and Kylo takes particular offense to it. A vampire running around selling illicit human blood would be punished accordingly, and this is no different.”

“All she did was help Unkar sell it; she wasn’t going out and draining them herself! Where is this guy?” Rose pats her mouth with a napkin and stands, scowling. “Let me talk to him. He can’t just _kill people_.”

“Absolutely not!” Hux snaps, yanking her back to her chair. “Are you mad?!”

They get into an argument and eventually leave the table. I sit there pushing around my dinner, trying not to cry. Punishment fits the crime, I guess.

—•—

By Wednesday I’m relegated to my fate. I still go to my weekly therapy appointment after work and stop at the grocery store for apples and a bag of chocolate and a can of spray cheese. Might as well enjoy my final days before all the blood gets sucked out of my body. Or he snaps my neck. Whatever he picks.

Rose drafts some petitions to the court and keeps nagging Hux but he insists nothing can be done, and trying to intervene will get _him_ killed. I don’t want that. I just hope it doesn’t hurt.

I schlep upstairs to my apartment with my final meal (maybe; I don’t know when he’s going to show up) and go to my bedroom to change. Work is going well, so that’s something I can be happy about. The spreadsheets are easy and Poe gives me extra time to sit and study, and he’s always around when I have a question. I’m doing well.

I stretch, closing my eyes. At least in the end I tried to turn things around. I _did_ turn things around.

The doorbell rings and my eyes slowly open. I swallow the lump in my throat and quickly change into leggings and a baggy sweater. Maybe Hux is wrong, and when Kylo sees all the improvements I’ve made, he’ll change his mind.

…Maybe.

I pull my hair into a ponytail on my way to answer the door, hesitating to take a deep breath before I do. Kylo is standing there with his hands in his coat pockets, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” I say, “I was just getting changed. Went to therapy.” I clear my throat, stepping back. “Um, come in. I cleaned up a little.”

Kylo walks inside, raising both eyebrows as he looks around. He doesn’t have to wear a coat; it’s not like the temperature can hurt him in any way, but he’s wearing it anyway, and gloves, which he tugs off while I close the door. I don’t lock it.

I scurry past him, heart racing. “Last week you wanted to check my blood but we didn’t get around to it, so we can do that today if you want. And you can check my bedroom too. If you want. Totally up to you.”

“I suppose we could start with checking your blood.”

“Oh, sure!” I nod and turn in a circle as he shrugs out of his coat. Okay—just have to—not panic. “Do we go somewhere? Like to the office?”

Kylo hangs his coat over the back of my couch and reaches up to loosen his tie. His dark eyes meet mine, cold and impassive.

“Show me your bedroom,” he says.

“Sure, sure.” I nod fast, a little anxious, and lead him to my small bedroom. “The veins in my left arm are really tiny for some reason so whoever takes my blood should try the right, so it’s—”

A sharp, telltale click interrupts me. I turn to look and see Kylo looming there in the darkness, fangs protruding from his mouth. My ears ring, and I just stare, and my life flashes before my eyes.

“We don’t need to involve anyone else, Miss Niima,” he says.

Before I can think to beg for my life he grabs me and his fangs are buried in my neck. I blink hard, gasping in shock and clenching his dress shirt in my fists—it hurts for a split second then I don’t feel anything except the pressure of him sucking my blood. It’s uncomfortable but it doesn’t hurt. I’m glad. Maybe it will go quickly.

His fingers pull my hair to tilt my jaw up and his other arm loops casually around my waist. I close my eyes as they roll back and my hands go slack, willpower quickly fading as he drinks more and more blood. It’s really not so bad. I don’t know why I didn’t do it sooner. Feels like I’ll just fall asleep.

But Kylo slows after a couple seconds, until he stops completely. His fangs slowly withdraw from my skin and I flinch, clenching my jaw. Ow… ow…

He guides my head back so I’m looking up into his dark eyes. They’re glowing faintly red—from _my blood_ —with an odd greenish tint, and I stare and tremble and hope maybe he changed his mind. Do I taste bad? All the vampire blood might make me taste bad. What if he kills me a different way?

But something seems wrong. Vampires can be hard to read but Kylo looks confused to me, and he keeps licking his lips like a cat that just had a treat.

His eyes mix into a red and green haze. I’m so dizzy I grab the front of his shirt to keep from falling over and he dips his head down to bite the other side of my neck instead. I groan, resisting as best I can, but his arm wraps around my waist again and I can’t move at all. This is it—he’s going to kill me—

Kylo roughly pushes me to my bed. I weakly cover my neck but he doesn’t follow: he keeps licking his lips, pupils constricting in the darkness, and takes a step back. Black spots bloom on my periphery.

“…Good.” He keeps licking, still backing away but staring at me. “Fine. I’ll be in touch.”

I think the front door opens and shuts but I’m too woozy to get up and look. My head pounds and my bedroom swirls—


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i did a twitter poll a while ago and people overwhelmingly wanted daddy kink in this fic so brace urselves
> 
> there’s no daddy kink in this chap LOL I’ll probably just do vibes of it without “daddy” actually being said

“Rey? Are you feeling okay?”

I go through the motions getting ready for work in the morning, trying not to think about Kylo sucking my blood from both sides of my throat. I’m still staring into space when I get to my cubicle and start on the spreadsheets. I’m wearing a turtleneck to hide the bite marks, so people don’t ask. Don’t worry.

Poe is leaning on the edge of my cubicle, dressed up in a blue twill shirt and dark slacks. He smiles when I nod and apologize for daydreaming.

“No problem,” he says. “Just checking in.”

He leaves, and I do my best to focus on what I’m doing. Kylo bit me. That’s assault. Sure he has everyone’s fucking blessing to kill me but him sucking my blood and leaving is somehow _worse_ than just killing me. Do I tell someone? Report him? I have the bite marks to prove my story.

I’ve never been bitten. Unkar never had me collect blood, just help him move it, so I’ve never dealt with the vampire bites and the weird feeling of being violated. But I guess I’ve violated _them_. I deserve it.

My thoughts stay scattered while I work and that makes it extra hard to process the numbers, but I’m almost done with the first spreadsheet when Hux ambles by. He cocks his head, pausing and frowning at me, and I raise my eyebrows. What?

“New perfume?” he asks.

“…No.” I rub my neck. “Why?”

His red eyes search my face before he shrugs and walks away. Maybe Kylo biting me makes me smell different. Fuck.

Around eleven I’m trembling and on the verge of tears, so I go to the bathroom to throw up and cry. My makeup runs so I wash my face and do my best to fix it, avoiding the eyes of the other women who come to the bathroom in the meantime. My stomach churns as I put on my lip gloss, hand shaking. Why do I feel like this? It shouldn’t be a big deal.

If I tell Rose she’ll get all upset and write more letters and just piss Kylo off. At least he didn’t kill me. I should be grateful for that.

I go back to my desk and swallow a lump in my throat. Phones ring around me. Keyboards click. I stare at my monitor and flex my fingers. He didn’t kill me. He just sucked my blood. So why am I so upset?

—•—

I’m afraid to go home after work but I _have_ to or risk my probation being revoked. Poe offers me a ride but I decline. I don’t want him getting caught in the middle of anything, even if he could mean a little extra protection. What chance does he really stand against a vampire?

I meander home alone. My skin is extra sensitive and the bite marks throb on my throat. Vampire bites often scar so it’s easy to pick out people who like fucking them or have a kink for being drained. Those people are weird. Outcasts. They get addicted to the adrenaline rush—and vampires need blood to be able to get an erection, so they _always_ drink before sex.

I hunch my shoulders, shivering. I’m not one of those people. I think I’d prefer he kills me.

Rain falls lightly on my umbrella and I shake it off before stepping into my building. Thunder rumbles, so I peek my head out to look up at the overcast sky. I like the weather here. Years ago I lived in the desert; some tiny town in Arizona. Before the blood.

I walk slowly upstairs to my apartment, jangling my keys in the soft bluish light through the dusty windows. Seattle feels ethereal sometimes. Like a dream. Like a nightmare.

I unlock my front door and it creaks open, gently swinging toward the wall, gradually revealing an intruder in my apartment. I half expected him to be here but figured he would wait outside—yet here he is, sitting on a chair a handful of feet inside. Wonder how he broke in.

Mr. Ren watches me. He’s in his long coat and has his hair drawn back at the top so most of it covers his ears. His knees are crossed, and he’s idly bobbing his foot. I hover by the door jamb and don’t move.

He raises his eyebrows. Speckled light from the rain running down the windows casts deep shadows across his pale face.

“Aren’t you going to come inside, Miss Niima?”

I shake my head. No. Even looking at him gives me unspeakable anxiety. He’s going to bite me. Kill me. It’s worse if he bites me and leaves again.

Mr. Ren’s eyes glow faintly green in the darkness. He sets both feet to the floor and leans forward in his chair, clasping his hands between his knees. He’s very big. Vampires tend to lose a lot of muscle when they shift and as they age but somehow, he’s _big_.

“Your therapist tells me you went to see your foster father.” His eyebrows lift higher. “The blood thief.”

“I just…” I swallow, throat tightening. “He’s the only family I have. I just wanted to see him.”

He nods, gaze wandering away. Silence falls, uncomfortable and heavy.

“My entire family is immortal,” Mr. Ren days after a beat. He leans back in his chair and rolls his eyes, sighing. “I don’t have the luxury of my mother dropping dead and finally leaving me alone.” His jaw shifts, and he looks at me. “Humans have finite lifespans. It’s best not to get attached.”

The threat is layered in. He’s going to kill Unkar and is telling me to stay away, and even though I hate my foster dad, I can’t help the tears that come. He still raised me. I don’t have anyone else.

I nod, studying my feet. I’m still afraid to ask if he’s going to kill me. I don’t want to hear the answer.

“Miss Tico’s _numerous_ letters have been floating around Judge Eckhert’s office. And mine.” Mr. Ren’s foot taps. “Hux also illuminated some things—as did your therapist.”

My heart pounds. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him. Just wait and see.

He heaves a sigh; a breath he doesn’t need to take.

“I suppose there are some compelling reasons for your actions.”

“I never collected it!” I blurt, quickly stepping into my apartment. “Unkar made me sell it and I had to if I wanted to eat. And he gave it to me. I’m sor—”

“Do you know _why_ he gave it to you, dear?”

I shake my head. Not really. I’m assuming keeping me addicted to something like vampire blood would keep me at the end of a leash, afraid to run away or move on.

Mr. Ren narrows his eyes and clicks his tongue. Vampires think much faster than humans so I know he’s just messing with me.

“I see.” He gestures with his long fingers. “Close the door, please.”

I hesitate, but he keeps giving me an expectant stare so I give in and close it. I close my eyes for a second while I’m still facing the door. My pulse pounds in my ears. Please don’t bite me.

When I turn around Mr. Ren is right behind me, coat off and draped over his chair. I jump, startled, and he crowds me against the door.

I push my palms on the cold rough wood and cower. He smiles and tilts his head.

“Nice turtleneck.”

“I can’t—I can’t have bites showing,” I stammer.

“No?” His lips roll and the fangs click out. He’s going to bite me again. “Is it _embarrassing_?”

“No, no!” I shake my head and stare at his fangs, throat constricting. “Please don’t—I don’t like being bitten. Please don’t.”

Mr. Ren cups my cheek. His palm is cool and smooth and my lower lip wobbles. Tears come despite my struggling to hold them back and he sighs, stroking his thumb along my cheek to wipe some away. I’m going to _die_ if he bites me again.

I close my eyes and fist the front of his sweater. Please don’t. Please don’t.

“Oh Miss Niima…” He lowers his voice, whispering, fingers gently rolling down my turtleneck. “Don’t you realize that you are nothing more than a large bag of _blood_ to me?”

Mr. Ren bites hard, striking like a hungry snake and holding firm when I gasp and squirm. I know if I move too much he can rip out the artery and then I’m _dead_ but I gulp in terror and writhe anyway. He shoves me up the door so he doesn’t have to crane his neck, yanking one of my legs up on his hip.

Blood quickly flows out and I quickly get dizzy. He lifts my other leg on his hip, pinning me to the door so he can drink leisurely, and my fingers go slack on his chest. My head lolls back but he catches it in his hand before I hit it off the door, cradling it in his palm. His other hand squeezes my thigh.

His fangs pop free, fingers tightening in my hair, and he whispers in my ear.

“You owe me several thousand gallons of immortal blood, _dear_ —and I expect your debt to be evident to others.” He nudges my temple, fangs dragging threateningly along my skin. “Do you understand?”

I nod. I’m groggy and my ears ring. I might faint.

Mr. Ren lets me down from the door and promptly scoops me up in his arms. It’s a good thing, because I faint the second he’s supporting me.

—•—

My phone ringing wakes me.

It’s dark and cold—I’m lying on top of my sheets, prone, and I gasp and slap a hand over the bite mark. He bit me. He bit me again.

I scramble to sit up and flick on my bedside lamp, disoriented and terrified that Mr. Ren is still in my apartment. My heart races as I fumble with my phone on the nightstand and rasp a greeting.

“Rey? Are you okay?”

Rose. She sounds worried.

I step out of bed, nodding and peeking out into my living room. Everything is quiet and still.

“I’m fine,” I croak. Clear my throat. “Just took a nap.”

“Hux said that asshole went to your apartment and…” Her voice hitches. “I’m sorry. He wouldn’t let me come over to check on you.”

I pad out to my living room and circle the couch, dizzy with fear. He bit me. My throat _hurts_ and I have that same vague sense of unease and creepy-crawlies. He took my blood even though I begged him not to.

But it looks like he’s gone. I check my entire tiny apartment and shuffle to the bathroom last to look at my neck in the mirror.

There’s a big angry bruise where he bit me last, up high near the arch of my jaw. My eyes well up with tears as I brush my fingertips along it. Everyone is going to see it at work tomorrow and _know_ and it’s going to be absolutely humiliating.

“So he’s not going to hurt you?” Rose asks. “Hux said he sent out something telling the others to stay away. What does that mean? Did he tell you?”

I trace a strange green smear on my skin and wipe it away with my thumb. The fluorescent light catches every haggard line of my face and I’m pale from being drained. I look like a decaying corpse.

“No,” I manage, “he didn’t say anything to me.”

“Are you safe, Rey? Are you okay?”

No. I’m not safe, and I’m not okay, but I have a feeling that Mr. Ren doesn’t want me divulging any of that to anyone. This is how he’s going to punish me.

I clench my jaw and stare at my reflection.

“I’m fine.”

Rose heaves a relieved sigh. “Good. Maybe all my letters worked after all.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

She promises to come see me when Hux says it’s safe and we hang up with each other.

I stand in the bathroom and just stare at myself for a long time. The light whirs and my image swims.

If this is how all those vampires felt having their blood stolen, I think I deserve whatever Mr. Ren has in store for me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rey: _yells softly_

The bites on my neck are humiliating, but I leave them uncovered on my way to work in case Mr. Ren is watching me. Wouldn’t put it past him—I look around the rainy streets, paranoid I’ll see his eyes glowing in a shadowy alley.

Once I’m inside the office building I tug my collar up to conceal my shame, shuddering as I close my umbrella. I can’t let people _see._ People can’t _know_.

Besides, I work entirely with other humans. I wave to a few people on my walk to my cubicle, smiling as best as I can. I’m safe here. Probably. He won’t come storming in and bite me in public.

Poe is hanging out near my cubicle in one of his sweaters and greets me with a coffee. We chat for a couple minutes and I feel a little more at ease, idly rubbing the aching bite on the arch of my throat. I’ll be fine. Vampires can’t just barge into human spaces unannounced and start biting people.

“Rey.”

My pleasant conversation is interrupted by Hux appearing from nowhere like he always does. He raises his eyebrows, glancing between Poe and me.

“A word, please,” he says.

“Guess I have shit to do anyway,” Poe sighs. He pats my desk and winks. “Let me know if you need a ride later, okay?”

I nod, managing another weak smile before he goes and Hux takes his chair. His pale face is ashen and he leans closer, setting his coffee on my desk. I don’t know why he drinks it. He’ll just throw it up.

“Do _not_ accept a ride from Poe,” Hux hisses. He looks around over the top of the cubicle before hunkering down again. “Unless you’d like Ren to kill him.”

“Why?” I snap. I cross my arms. “He’s just being nice. Can people not be nice to me anymore?”

Hux scoffs, rolling his red eyes. He’s such a douche.

“Kylo has placed you under a moratorium, Rey. Do you have any idea what that means?”

I shake my head. No. Sounds like legalese.

“It _means_ that _you_ belong to _him_.” Hux raises his hands like it should’ve been obvious and he’s talking to a moron. “No one is permitted to touch you or even look at you the wrong way.” He clasps his hands, looking around once more. “I have some wiggle room due to our working relationship and Rose, but not much.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I mutter, turning to my computer. “How’s he going to find out if people are—god forbid—looking at me?”

“It applies to our kind and word travels fast. Many vampires would like to be in his good graces and are more than happy to rat each other out.”

Hux rolls down the collar of my sweater before I can stop him. His fingers are cold and I hiss, slapping at his hand, but he bares his fangs back at me, which is much more intimidating.

“Unless you’d like to incur his wrath,” he says icily, “I suggest you do what he says.”

Then he gets up and leaves, straightening his black tie and narrowing his eyes as he scans the cramped office.

I do my best to get back to my spreadsheets but I’m hyper aware of the bites and extremely self conscious. The bright fluorescent lights feel hotter than normal and soon I’m breaking out in a cold, anxious sweat, fingers quivering as I type. I just want to do my job and go home. I want to do the right thing and be better and successful and—

My throat tightens. I think I’d rather Kylo just kill me. I don’t think I can deal with this for very long.

Around ten I stop by Poe’s office to ask if I can walk to the Starbucks down the street. He doesn’t mind and even gives me twenty bucks so I gladly shrug into my coat and head out into the cool morning. I could use the fresh air—maybe I just need to clear my head. I don’t want to _die._ That’s ridiculous.

Traffic moves along to my left as I stroll down the empty sidewalks, hands curled in my pockets. Kylo doesn’t even want to kill me, though I need to research this ‘moratorium’ thing more when I go home. I’ll be fine. I’ll be okay.

Tears well up unbidden and I’m struck by a cold wave of despair. He’s going to break into my apartment and feed from me whenever he wants. What kind of life is that? How will I get married? Have kids? Even go on dates? What if I never have any semblance of freedom again?

I can’t do this. I stop, heart pounding, staring through the sheet of rain. I can’t do this.

“And where are _you_ off to, Miss Niima?”

His voice makes my hair stand on end. I’m so terrified that I can’t even turn around to confront him as he walks up on my right side, enormous, stepping lightly despite it. He’s holding an umbrella and wearing the same black coat he always does, like a character from an old mystery novel.

I don’t move. My heart races so fast I think I might faint. Please don’t bite me. Please don’t bite me.

“Starbucks is still a few blocks away,” Mr. Ren offers, squinting through the rain. “You shouldn’t dawdle and keep Mister Dameron waiting.”

Oh god. He knows—he does he know? Who told him? Hux? Poe? Someone else?

I still don’t move, and Mr. Ren casts me a bored sideways glance. I can see his dark eyes tinged green on my periphery but I don’t look at him.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs. The umbrella shifts, tilting to cover me. “Cold?”

We’re out on a busy street in the middle of Seattle. I ball my fists in my pockets and look around as far as I can without moving my head. He won’t do anything out here. Bite me. It’s a misdemeanor.

I swallow, shaking my head. “You can’t—you can’t bite me… here.” I avoid his eyes. “It’s the law.”

Mr. Ren clicks his tongue but doesn’t reply. I think maybe I have a point—it _is_ illegal—then he steps closer, and my heart leaps in my throat.

He bends slightly, lips brushing my ear. I stiffen at the distinct pop of his fangs over the drum of the rain. He moves so fast; so inhumanly graceful that I almost break into a run to get away. Some unevolved part of my brain screams _predator_.

“And who’s going to stop me?” he asks, voice low and amused. Fingertips skate along my forearm, feather light. “You?”

As much as I want to nod, I know that’s going to be seen as a threat, and he can have my probation revoked. I shake my head stiffly, flinching when he nudges my jaw with his nose to expose my neck. People are walking by. Looking.

Kylo hums, gently curling his fingers around my forearm. His fangs drag on my neck.

“I would prefer you remain in your office while working. No little trips outside.” He presses a kiss to the middle of my throat. “There are very dangerous vampires in Seattle, you know.”

That’s _bullshit_. Anger trumps fear—because he can’t tell me to stay inside like a prisoner, and I’m already paying my dues. I’m sick of this; sick of him.

I jerk away, stumbling a step into the side of a mailbox. He casually follows with his umbrella, smiling. Why didn’t I bring mine? In too much of a rush. I just wanted to get out of that place for a few minutes and clear my head.

“No!” I snap.

I shake my head and meet his dark eyes and wish I hadn’t. He looms over me, fangs glinting in the hazy blue morning light like a monster from my nightmares. Terrifying.

But I figure I’m already in it, so I keep going.

“I am trying very… hard,” I continue in a shaky voice, pointing at the sidewalk. I roll my lips to keep from bursting into tears. “I am—going to therapy, and… and I got a job…” My breath catches and I keep shaking my head, on the verge of sobbing. “Just kill me if you hate me so much.”

Mr. Ren tilts his head. It reminds me of a hawk examining a bird shrieking under its talons.

He grasps my chin in his long, cold fingers, firm, but not rough like usual. I glare up at him for a couple seconds but his eyes are deep and penetrating so I lower them to his chest and focus on not crying. I’m freezing. I just want to go home and sleep.

“I don’t hate you, little one,” he soothes. His thumb traces my lower lip. “Not anymore.”

“Then why are you still making everything so hard?” I break down into sobs like I feared I would. “Why won’t you just leave me alone?”

Mr. Ren slides his hand up to cup the entire side of my face in his palm, shushing me when I try squirming away. I’m pinned against the mailbox and cry harder when he takes me face in both hands, tilting my head so I have to look up at him. I squeeze my eyes shut, twisting away and pawing at his wrists.

“I know, I know.” He groans at another loud sob, shushing me. “My poor little Rey wants _structure_ , doesn’t she?”

His umbrella is rolling on the ground and I’m making enough noise to attract attention. I don’t know what he’s talking about but I’m terrified he’s going to bite me in public and humiliate me, so I squirm and cry and hope someone comes to investigate.

Mr. Ren shoves me into the mailbox, guttural. “You smell—so _sweet_. I think I’ll bring you home and give you a nice bath before we play.”

“Excuse me.”

Someone speaks sharply, interrupting him. We both look up and see a woman with her child in a stroller, standing beside another woman who looks unsure. They’re young. No umbrellas, but wearing rain slickers, and the stroller has a small umbrella over the top to keep the little one dry.

Mr. Ren retracts his fangs, slipping away from me. I wipe my face and try to get a hold of myself.

The shorter blonde woman mumbles to the other but she doesn’t seem intimidated by him. She turns the stroller slightly to hide the baby.

“I think she said no,” the woman says coldly. She points. “There’s a blood bank down the street if you’re hungry.”

Mr. Ren gives her a cocky smirk and rolls his eyes. He taps my nose.

“Remember, Miss Niima: no wandering outside alone.” He inclines his head to the two women. “Ladies. Have a nice day.”

Then he walks off through the rain. The women ask if I’m okay and offer to walk with me to Starbucks but I don’t want to put them out.

I hurry back to the office instead.


	6. Chapter 6

Therapy comes around Wednesday but I have a hard time focusing. It’s been a few days since my incident with Mr. Ren and I’m still reeling from it; still waiting to find him lurking in my cramped, dark apartment. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. I wish he would just leave me alone.

I have a nightmare one night about him giving me a bath and the word ‘play’ sticks in my craw like a sliver. _Play_? What does he mean, _play_?

I come home from therapy to find a strange package waiting outside my door with my name written on a note tied to the middle. It’s wrapped in brown paper, very neat and fancy, and I walk right past it. It’s from him. I know it is. I’m not going to even look at it.

Rose is coming to get me for dinner; just the two of us, no Hux. I try to forget the package while I pick an outfit and take a shower, determined to enjoy my night with my friend. Mr. Ren hasn’t talked to me since our altercation. Maybe he realized he made a mistake. Maybe someone told him to stop.

Fat chance.

Around six Rose knocks on my door. She’s dressed up in a skirt and green blouse and gasps when she sees me in my dress. I like them, I just haven’t had much opportunity to wear them in my previous life.

“Red?” she says, waggling her eyebrows. “Risqué.”

“You think knee-length dresses are risqué? Aren’t you marrying a vampire?”

“A very _vanilla_ vampire.”

We laugh as I step out into the hall and lock the door. True. Hux is a little uptight. I’m surprised he let her go out with me alone, but Rose isn’t the type to take orders from anyone.

It’s a couple blocks to the restaurant, Verdilles, an Italian place we’ve been meaning to try for a while. I’m allowed to drink alcohol on probation—just no vampire blood—and I’m excited to have a glass of wine. I could _really_ use a drink.

Nice night. Clear, cool. Rose chats about work and Hux and I listen, arms folded as I walk beside her. I missed having nights like this. _Normal_ nights.

But I’m on edge when we get to Verdilles. I can’t help scanning the restaurant for any signs of my hulking immortal probation officer, searching the different human faces illuminated by flickering candlelight. It’s a small place. We have a reservation and Rose is buying. I’ll relax. Have a few drinks at Hux’s expense, as if I don’t owe him my life already.

“I can pay for myself,” I offer, suddenly awash with guilt. “I got my first paycheck.”

“No way, Hux owes you after his weird attitude the other day. He’s such a jerk sometimes.” Rose rolls her eyes and puckers her lips. “Maybe I’ll be boring and get pesce alfredo. What are you thinking?”

“Chicken cacciatore, maybe?”

“Ooo, that sounds good. I haven’t had that in forever.”

Our waiter takes our order and brings us our wine. Rose has white and mine is a red. I just asked for whatever would be good with my meal. I don’t know anything about wine.

We talk about work and the weather and I slowly sense the abyss yawning open between us. Hux has probably told Rose I’m being watched. She knows Mr. Ren isn’t visiting me with pure intentions, and she knows there isn’t anything she can do about it. It’s awkward. Uncomfortable.

Rose finishes her first glass and most of her alfredo before she excuses herself to the bathroom. I’m halfway through my own meal and ask the waiter for another glass of the same wine when he passes by a minute later. It’s great.

A hand closes over my shoulder. I stop mid-chew.

“Devon—bring us a bottle of Chianti instead, please. Whatever you have that’s best.” 

Spiders skitter up my spine as Mr. Ren circles around the table and takes Rose’s seat. He’s wearing a gray sweater and a shiny watch and his hair is neatly parted and brushed and he’s smiling at me. My first thought is that he’s done something to Rose. She sent all those letters complaining and Hux has helped me out more than once—maybe he hurt her.

I stare blankly. It’s a small restaurant with a handful of people. I can’t yell or make a scene.

Mr. Ren leans back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, arms resting gracefully in his lap. He thanks Devon when he pours me a new glass of wine.

“Miss Tico has gone home to her fiancé,” he says. “If you don’t mind wrapping up the rest of her meal, Devon. I’ll be sure to bring it to her.”

Devon nods. His hands shake when he takes the plate and Mr. Ren stares, smugly smiling with his head cocked. He knows what he does to people and he enjoys it. I think that’s fucking evil.

I lower my gaze to my plate. I hope she’s okay. I should go check the bathroom. I start to stand up even though my knees knock.

“Have a seat, Miss Niima.”

He’s watching me. The smile is gone.

I swallow a lump. “I have to… is Rose…?”

“As I said: Miss Tico has gone home to her fiancé.” Mr. Ren motions to my seat. “No need to worry. I’ve given Hux a few suggestions on how to keep his woman in line so we don’t have these issues in the future.”

Keep his woman ‘in line.’ I sit down once more, bristling at his weird, sexist language. Rose isn’t someone who appreciates being ‘kept in line.’

Mr. Ren gestures to my glass of wine. “Please. Relax, have a drink. It will pair much better with your meal.”

Vampires can’t eat or drink so I’m not sure why he ordered an entire bottle of wine. I’ll probably pass out if I try drinking it alone.

An eerie thought slithers into my head. What if he _wants_ me to drink the whole thing? What if he’s trying to get me drunk so it’s easier to…

But he doesn’t need to make me easier to assault. I’m already an easy victim: human, blood thief, addict, isolated. He doesn’t have to push alcohol on me. I probably wouldn’t even fight back.

Mr. Ren raises an eyebrow. I take a sip of my wine and find it more tart than the one before, but the more he stares the quicker I drink. I don’t know. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want to make a scene by running out of here.

“How was therapy?” he asks.

I set down my glass and shrug, shaking. He leans forward to pour me another heaping glass.

“Fine,” I reply. “Is Rose—”

“ _Rey_ ,” Mr. Ren interrupts gently, “I’ve already told you she’s safe. If I killed every insolent human that crossed my path, your kind would be halfway to extinction by now. Tell me more about therapy.”

Devon drops off Rose’s food at that moment. Mr. Ren hands him a credit card and reclines again, and I push down my terror at his casual mention of killing people.

I push my food around my plate. “It was fine.”

“Did you discuss our conversation in the street?”

“…No. I didn’t think I should.”

“Good. Don’t discuss any of our business with anyone.”

That’s obvious. I take a bite of my chicken cacciatore and chew slowly. I don’t even want to think about what his response would be if I did.

Mr. Ren watches me eat and drink. I finish another glass of wine and I’m spinning after it, even with my belly full of food and rolls. He just watches. Waits.

“I meant what I said, Miss Niima. I’m going to give you structure.” He pours me another glass of wine.

“I don’t need any more—”

“From what I’ve ascertained, you have lacked structure for your entire life. You _crave_ it, and you’ll enjoy it once you’ve grown accustomed to it.”

I’m pretty positive I don’t want his version of ‘structure’ or ‘play’ or anything else. I set my fork down and push my plate back.

I’m mad. And kind of drunk.

“I’m doing fine,” I snip. “I don’t need your help, and you can’t interrupt my dinners with friends.”

Mr. Ren’s eyebrows raise and he breaks into a wide smirk, not bothering to glance at Devon dropping off his receipt and card. A flutter of fear comes but I ignore it and turn to grab my purse. I’ll just go. What’s he going to do about it? Pour the wine down my throat? Drag me home?

I stand up and snatch Rose’s leftovers. Mr. Ren keeps his hands folded politely in his lap and continues smiling when I mutter ‘thanks.’ I don’t need structure. I _have_ structure. I go to therapy and work and I have my friends. I don’t need anything else.

It’s cold out and that makes me immediately realize I forgot my jacket. Shivering, I cross my arms over my chest and decide to head home without it. Not worth going back and seeing him. If I hurry—

Weight alights on my shoulders mid-step. I stop, flinching at the brush of his fingers on my skin as he helps me into my coat. He takes Rose’s bag of leftovers in another smooth motion and I blink, and he’s buttoning up my coat, whispering in my ear.

“You’ll catch a chill, little one. Wait for me next time.”

I push him away, stumbling and teetering back a step. He lets me. He has Rose’s clutch.

The world spins on its axis much faster than normal. Streetlights and neons signs swirl into a confusing mix of color and I rub my eyes, whimpering. I haven’t had alcohol in a long time. I just want to go to bed—again. I just want to sleep.

Mr. Ren gives me his condescending groan. I’m grabbed before I stagger off the edge of the sidewalk into the street, pulled against his chest. I hyperventilate and squirm and whimper because I don’t know what else to do.

Fangs click. He’s smelling my hair, coiling his embrace tighter. I can’t move. I can’t move.

“Shh… shh…” He takes a deep breath but doesn’t exhale. “You’re going to hurt yourself if I let you go home alone. Let’s go back to my apartment instead.”

“No—no—”

“I’ll give you a nice warm bath—” I struggle and he suppresses it, squeezing harder. His lips are at my ear. “And we’ll see where the night takes us.”

This time there’s no one to help me. It’s dark and quiet and I beg Mr. Ren to let me go but he drags me toward a black car, murmuring promises about giving me a bath and making sure I’m ‘comfortable.’ I’m pushed against him and can’t see the thing before I’m pushed in the back seat.

He climbs in half on top of me, fangs glinting in the darkness. I pant in terror and twist on my back and push at his broad chest. My head bumps the opposite door and he coos and cups it.

“Careful, dear,” he chastises. Weight bears down on me and he buries his face in my neck. Inhales. “Careful.”

Mr. Ren bites me. I kick my legs out but he covers my mouth with a cool palm before I can scream. All I hear are my weak kicks on the edge of the car door and the wet suck of his mouth interspersed with breathless groans. I grimace, twisting away, breaking down into tears. He’s suffocating me.

His fangs slip free and his breath is warm on my cheek from my blood. He shushes my panicked whining and sobbing.

“I know,” he soothes in a soft whisper, “I know. I just needed a little taste before we left.” He licks his lips and nuzzles into the crook of my neck. His hips shift between my trembling thighs. “You’re going to look so lovely once I have you washed and dressed. Did you like the gift I left for you?”

I don’t respond. I’m shaking and staring over his shoulder at the roof of the car, terrified and confused. My neck aches.

Mr. Ren hums, kissing the bite. “Didn’t have a chance to open it, little one? That’s fine. I have more waiting for you in my bedroom.” His voice drops. I swallow a lump. “I have plenty of things waiting for you in my bedroom.”

He slips away and the door slams shut. I don’t move, even when he gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car. I just watch the lights pass over the roof for a few minutes, then close my eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fear horniness in this fic is truly off the charts

Soft music wakes me up.

I’m groggy and disoriented and my neck pulses as my eyes flutter open. I’m lying prone in a bed, face buried in a mountain of fluffy pillows, and there’s something cold around my ankle. I’m not sure where I am. It’s too dark to make much out but I hear music; classical music. It should be soothing, I think.

I huff into the pillows, wincing as I push over on my back. I’m not naked. From what I can tell, I’m still wearing my dress. Shoes are gone, but I’m not naked. That’s good. I was afraid I’d wake up in a fucking dungeon or something.

My foot draws up as I rub my face. There’s a gentle jangle and tug that makes my blood run cold.

I peer through my fingers at the foot of the bed. It’s hard to see but there’s definitely a chain around my ankle and it disappears over the edge of the bed, maybe attaching to the floor somewhere underneath.

I stare, terror trickling down my chest. The chain jangles again when I curl my toes. That’s not good. That’s very bad.

Adrenaline has me bolt upright in a split second, dizziness and pain forgotten. My nails scrabble on the cold, heavy metal, yanking and pushing and flopping back to get it off my ankle—it’s a little loose and I’m _extremely_ desperate to get it off, so I keep pushing and twisting my ankle—

It pops off, though some of my skin goes with it. I grimace but bite my tongue and set the thing aside so it doesn’t clatter on the floor. Blood is bad with a vampire nearby. He’ll know. Soon. I don’t have much time to figure out how to get home.

My legs tremble violently when I set my feet on the floor, just as icy as the chains. I stumble, head spinning. Jesus Christ. Don’t faint, don’t faint.

I’m still spinning as I stagger to the wall and blindly run my hands along it. As long as I don’t pass out and find the door, I should be okay. I just have to find the door—then I’ll run like hell. Maybe he thought I’d be safe where I am? He could’ve gone back out. I could be here alone. Am I still in Seattle?

Terror builds the longer it takes me to find the door. There has to be a door. There has to be a way out.

My shaking hands fall across a seam and I grope down until I feel a handle. I twist it, peering over my shoulder into the empty darkness behind me before I slip out of the room. Thank god. Hopefully I’m not in his fucking basement or some—

I bump into something big. My eyes widen, but my brain doesn’t move fast enough.

He grabs me. I only manage a gasp of surprise and a couple terrified squeaks as I’m dragged into his embrace and feel his cool lips at my ear. It’s eerily quiet outside the room but the soft music drifts through the cracked door behind me.

Mr. Ren clicks his tongue and laughs lightly when I struggle. His arms are like those iron bars on roller coasters; no amount of pushing and squirming is moving them. Holy _shit_ , holy shit—

“Where are you going, Miss Niima?” he whispers. We move, and it’s so fast that my brain rattles in my skull. I can’t see for shit. “Wouldn’t you like to take a bath?”

I shake my head quickly but a door opens and I’m carried into another humid, dark room. The door closes and I wait for Mr. Ren to turn on a light, but vampires can see fine in the dark. He probably prefers that I can’t see anything.

I’m set on my feet and stumble back into the edge of a counter. He follows, hard body pressing along mine, lips brushing my jaw. I panic and push against his chest but, as always, it doesn’t do anything.

Mr. Ren groans. “Shh, shh—don’t flutter your wings so much, little one. You may break them.”

“Get—get _away_ from me—” I’m whispering hoarsely, not quite worked up to a scream. I’m afraid he’ll kill me if I scream. “Let go—”

“Shh… shh… all this adrenaline makes your blood taste sour.”

The prospect of being bitten again makes me actually scream. His mouth is against my neck and he’s inhaling, then he licks and groans and his fangs graze my skin. I kick my feet on the cupboards under the counter and shove on his chest until my wrists sting. Please don’t, please don’t.

Lights flick on. I can see a white ceiling over his shoulder and plumes of thin fog from what I assume is the bath. I’m in the bathroom—that makes sense.

Mr. Ren withdraws after another pause. His fangs hang from his mouth but I’m more surprised by the color of his eyes: greenish instead of the usual red he and most other vampires have. His pupils are thin slits and there’s a green tinge to his pale lips.

I curl my hands around the edge of the counter, trembling and staring up at him. Is he sick? Is that why he’s been acting so… weird?

Something isn’t right. He hated me a couple weeks ago—he was going to _kill me_. Then he bit me and ever since then he’s been like this. But there’s nothing special about my blood or me. I should taste awful since I took vampire blood for so long.

Mr. Ren smiles. He prods the tip of a fang with his tongue.

“You’re bleeding,” he murmurs.

I swallow, gaze wandering down to the white tile floor and my throbbing ankle. I _am_ bleeding—and it’s the wrong color.

It’s green. I’m bleeding grassy green blood, and it’s running down my ankle across my foot.

I stare at it in rude shock, nausea and terror swirling in my gut. Why is my blood green? What did he do to me? Is this part of detoxing? I need to go to the hospital—I need to get out of here.

“What is this?” I breathe, still staring. “What’s happening to me?”

“I suppose I should have been supervising you more closely. I hoped you would wait for me to come collect you for your bath.”

He shifts a step and I jerk back, putting up a hand to stop him. Mr. Ren pauses and raises his eyebrows. My hand shakes violently.

I lick my lips, shaking my head and staring into his eerie glowing eyes. “No—no. I don’t want—I don’t want to take a bath. I just want to go home.” He smiles and takes another ambling step anyway. “No—no! I mean it! I’ll r-report you!”

He’s very fast, as vampires tend to be. I’m vaguely aware of being turned and my dress unzipping, then it falls to the floor and I’m bent over the counter. His huge hands settle on my hips and I freeze, cheek pressed to the hard countertop.

Mr. Ren leans over me, pressing a kiss to my bare shoulder. He slides two fingers under the hem of my panties and I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Good girl.” He eases my panties over my hips and they fall to the floor. Fingertips skate up to my waist. “I’m going to take very good care of you.”

I’ve never been naked in front of a man like this. I’m already so anxious and terrified it feels like I’m about to have a stroke but it’s amplified by my nudity and the calm, casual way he proceeds to take off my bra. I’m straightened up with a gentle tug on my hips and catch my mortified expression in the foggy mirror.

I stare at myself. I’m much paler than usual; kind of gaunt and skeletal. Maybe I need sunshine.

“Rey, dear. Your bath is going cold.”

Mr. Ren smiles and motions toward a large claw foot tub filled with sudsy pink water. I’ve barely looked around the bathroom but it’s cavernous and white and makes me feel like I’m in a high-end psych ward. A couple weird modern art pieces hang on the walls.

I don’t have a choice, so I hurry the couple feet to the tub and climb in. Water sloshes over the edge and my blood gives it a swirling green tint. Someone will notice I’m missing soon. Rose will know where I am—the police will come. Right?

Mr. Ren drapes a towel on the floor beside the tub. He’s still dressed up from dinner and I glimpse a green stain on the collar of his shirt. Nausea coils in my stomach. Why is my blood green? What did he do?

He kneels, and rolls his sleeves up to the elbow. I’m scared he’s going to take the opportunity to grope me but he’s surprisingly gentle— _thorough_ , cleaning between my toes and behind my ears until I wince and twist away from him—but it isn’t wholly unpleasant. The loofa is soft. It floats in the water while he uses the shower head to wash my hair.

When Mr. Ren is done he cups a hand on my knee underwater, leaning in to inhale at my neck. My body is humming from the massage and I don’t completely lose my shit when he bites me. I wince, toes curling, legs shifting. He squeezes my knee and circles it slowly with his thumb.

Only a few seconds pass before he stops. Fangs slip free and he exhales a shaky, shallow breath. Old breathing habits die hard.

“Much better,” he whispers. He kisses the bite, running his hand down my calf. “Very sweet. I’m not sure I’ll be able to return to drinking human blood.”

I frown, woozy and confused. Human blood?

Mr. Ren lifts me out of the tub in one fluid, quick motion. I’m wrapped in a towel and sway on my feet but I’m gently embraced before I teeter over. The tub drains behind me. What does he mean, ‘human blood?’

He nuzzles my temple. “Unfortunately, your blood volume replenishes a bit slower than a human’s. I need to be more judicious with my feedings, difficult as that may be.” His voice lowers, rumbling. “You’re even sweeter when you’re nice and relaxed.”

“‘M a human,” I mumble.

“Of course you are, dear. You’ll be much safer that way.”

Mr. Ren dries my hair with the towel while I struggle to make sense of his cryptic reply. I don’t get it. I’m not a vampire—are werewolves a thing, too?

I’m still shaky as he pulls a black sleeveless nightgown over my head, too weak to do much except lift my arms when he tells me to. The fabric is soft and light and thin. It’s nice. I usually just wear whatever old clothes I can find to bed.

He kisses my forehead, another odd display of affection. I don’t get it. He _hates_ me.

“Don’t worry. I’m going to let you go back to your middling little job and your friend Miss Tico—with some guidelines in place. She’s already called several times demanding to speak with you.” Mr. Ren picks me up bridal style, so fast that my stomach lurches. “Hux hasn’t fully elucidated her on our etiquette. Perhaps we can set a good example for Miss Tico.”

My head lolls and I blink hard, moaning. I hate when he moves fast. It’s terrifying, like seeing a snake strike, and my body just _knows_ it’s not right.

Mr. Ren closes the bathroom door. I’m plunged into cold darkness once more as we start down the hallway. His footsteps echo.

“Don’t hurt her,” I plead hoarsely. I paw at his shirt. “Please.”

“ _Rey_ , I’ve already told you I don’t kill every impertinent human that crosses my path. Remember these things. In the future, you’ll be punished if I have to repeat myself to you.”

“She’s just trying to help me—that’s all she’s trying to do…” I trail off, fighting back tears. “She’s all I have.”

“I know. I’ve witnessed your codependency firsthand, and I have no immediate plans to take her away from you. She’ll keep you happy and sweet for me.”

We stop and he opens another door. His apartment must be fucking _massive_ , or maybe he drove me out somewhere else. Maybe he’s lying. I’ll be chained to a bed here forever and never see Rose again. He’ll just suck my blood and give me a bath after. Forever.

Maybe that’s what I deserve, since I stole vampire blood for so many years. I don’t know.

“I’ll work you two apart _very_ slowly, so the pain isn’t as acute.” He closes the door, murmuring. “Soon you’ll only need me. Doesn’t that sound nice and easy?”

Mr. Ren sets me down on something soft—I think it’s his bed but I can’t fucking see it. He climbs on top of me, kneeling between my legs, shushing me when i writhe and pull on his shirt. I could really use some silver right now. Rose sold all hers when she got together with Hux and I’ve never had my own.

I push harder when he dips his lips to my neck. No more—no more—

“Be a good girl,” he whispers, “or I’m going to chain you to the headboard.” He traces his tongue along my artery. “Is that what you want, Miss Niima?”

“No… no…”

“Are you _sure_?”

I nod, stiffening at his fangs prodding my skin. Mr. Ren laughs lightly, condescendingly, nudging my jaw.

“You’ll learn to like it,” he says, “along with all the other things I’ll show you. For now…” He kisses the corner of my jaw. “One more taste before bed.”

He bites, and my hands fall away from his shirt while he noisily drinks my blood. At least my bath was nice.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have 2 say, and this is why daddy dearest worked so well for me (don’t read it it’s awful), i love when he imposes affection on her 😭😭 idk why but that’s one of my fave tropes
> 
> oh and because this fic is really popular, i’d like to again remind people who have blocked/unfollowed me due to drama on social media that they are not welcome here 😊 thanks a bunch!

This time I wake up in a well-lit room.

I’m sore as hell and exhausted; in the same state I was in the first time I woke up in Mr. Ren’s fucked up dungeon—but this time I’m lying on a couch, not in a bed. And I can see, which is a welcome change.

I slowly sit up, rubbing my eyes and sniffling. My blanket falls away as I take in my new surroundings: a big living room with matching dark leather furniture and a couple bookshelves. There’s a white rug under the glass coffee table and a fire cracking under the mantle. The huge television hanging on the wall is turned off, and I’m surprised to see one at all. Hux doesn’t own a TV. He says the light hurts his eyes.

My gaze wanders along the beige walls and across old, well-worn books, over a couple more weird modern art pieces. I’m taking it all in bit by bit—it’s a weird combination of modern and antique—then my eyes fall upon a hulking form.

Mr. Ren is standing in the entryway. I jump, startled, recoiling on instinct at the sight of his calm, easy smile. He’s cleaned up from drinking my blood, now wearing a new gray turtleneck and dark slacks. His hands are in his pockets, hair parted and neat. Put together. It’s like he never bit me.

He tilts his head, smile widening. His fangs are out.

“Good morning, little one. How are you feeling?”

Morning? I turn, searching the room for the time. I’m late for work if it’s morning. _Fuck_.

“I’ve already let Mister Dameron and Hux know that you’re going to be absent for a handful of days.”

I hesitantly look back at Mr. Ren. It feels like he’s looking for a thank you but I don’t feel the need to thank him for kidnapping me.

Cold slithers down my spine. A couple _days_? He’s going to keep me here for a couple _days_?

His fangs click back into his mouth and he steps aside, gesturing out to his kitchen. The lights are on and I see some shiny stainless steel appliances he doesn’t need and smooth gray countertops. Probably expensive. Vampires aren’t usually slumming it.

“You should have something to eat,” Mr. Ren says. He beckons me with a long index finger. “Come.”

I’m not super keen on that. I’m still only wearing the thin black nightgown—then I glance down and realize he changed me into a different one. It’s green. That’s convenient, to hide the green blood.

Green blood. _Green blood._ He wouldn’t tell me why my blood is green before and I’m sure he hasn’t changed his mind.

I fold my arms, shivering. It’s freezing in here, my blood is green, and my probation officer won’t stop drinking it. What if he does it while I’m eating? How am I ever supposed to stop him?

“Are you cold, Miss Niima?”

I nod, tentative, and Mr. Ren clicks his tongue.

“I do like you in those thin little gowns but…” He passes a hand through his thick hair, humming. “Hold on one moment.”

He’s gone in a blur. It’s only just crossed my mind that I should go look for the front door when he’s back, stopping so fast in front of me that I flop backwards in shock. Jesus _Christ_.

He returns with a neatly folded pile of clothes: a thick green sweater, gray leggings, and wool socks. It’s a strange outfit but it’s definitely warmer and exposes less of me than some skimpy nightgown. Gives me strong _Dracula_ vibes. Can’t even watch that movie now—or _Twilight_ , or _Buffy._ Anti-vampire propaganda, they call it. Seems like it was all accurate to me.

Mr. Ren motions for me to stand and I do, arms crossed. I’m uneasy. Why does he have clothes that fit me? Was this all premeditated?

I swallow, throat dry and sore. “When… when can I go home?” He said I could go home yesterday. When?

He pulls the nightgown off over my head and drops it on the couch. I’m naked and quickly cross my arms but he pries them apart to pull the sweater on. It’s soft and much warmer. I’m still cold.

“Have a seat,” he says.

“Can I talk to Rose?” I croak. “Please. Just for a few minutes.”

Mr. Ren sighs and pokes me underneath my collarbone with two fingers. I fall back on the couch, huffing, and he kneels between my knees with a white pair of panties.

“After you’ve eaten something I would like you to rest for a while.” He slides the panties up my calves, leaning forward in one fluid motion. His lips are at my ear and his cold hands are on my hips. “I’m having difficulty controlling my hunger, Miss Niima—and I would very much like to play this afternoon, so it’s best that I let you rest.”

I don’t move. I swallow as his hands slide down my hips to grasp my thighs, and I twitch at a kiss on my neck. I’m probably cold from all the blood loss. If he doesn’t stop he’s going to kill me soon.

Mr. Ren kisses me a little harder. His hands wind around my legs, thumbs pressing in to a spot on my inner thighs that pulsates. I push my palms on his chest but it does nothing to stop him.

“Femoral arteries,” he whispers. He rubs the spot with his thumbs. “Under very high pressure. I prefer blood from the carotid arteries but there’s something so…” He exhales, tracing my artery with the tip of his tongue. “ _Erotic_ , about drinking from the inner thigh. Don’t you think?”

I wait, terrified that he’s going to bite my leg and kill me. Mr. Ren presses another kiss to my throat before he leans back, reaching for the pair of leggings.

After I’m dressed down to my socks he leads me out to the kitchen. It’s nice—more modern than I expected, filled with all kinds of things an immortal really doesn’t need. Why does he have a fridge? Vampires aren’t allowed to stockpile blood. They have to go to a bank or find a willing donator, and that comes with a lot of paperwork.

Mr. Ren pulls out a chair for me at the island and drapes my blanket around my shoulders. His kitchen might be bigger than my entire apartment.

He opens the fridge. “You’ll have to forgive me for covering the windows. I find sunlight uncomfortable.”

I glance at the heavy gray covers over the many windows in the kitchen. They look like they’re made out of steel—makes sense for an ancient vampire. Their tolerance for sunlight worsens as they get older, and Mr. Ren is supposedly _very_ old. Seattle is perfect for him, with the cloud cover.

He takes a few things out of the fridge: bacon, eggs, milk, butter. It’s all new and unopened. I don’t know what to say to him that doesn’t involve begging to go home. I have nothing in common with an ancient vampire that kidnaps people, except drinking blood for half my life. But he won’t like talking about that, I’m sure.

I’m offered a glass of water and down it in a couple gulps. Mr. Ren smiles and gives me another, and I avoid his eerie gaze while I drink it.

“If you’re considering opening the blinds, little one, I would like to remind you that I am a bit quicker than you are.”

I cough, shaking my head. “No—no. I’m not. No.”

He drums his fingertips on the island, studying me, then turns away to begin cooking. Jesus. I’m not completely stupid.

“You’ll be disappointed,” he says, turning on the stove top. “No bursting into flame, no melting skin. I will get a touch of sunburn, though, and be _quite_ upset with you.” Mr. Ren glances at me over his shoulder and winks. “Just a helpful tip.”

Hux mentioned something about him being different than the average vampire. I can’t really remember _what_ he said, unfortunately.

“…Silver?” I ask, in a way I hope isn’t suspicious. I’m sure it is.

Mr. Ren smiles and reaches into his shirt to show my a thin silver cross on a chain hanging around his neck. Holy shit. Hux gets nauseous if we even see a cross in a movie. How…?

He tucks the cross back in his shirt. There’s a blur of movement, then I smell food cooking.

“More than one human has tried to kill me over the years.” Bacon sizzles and he rolls his broad shoulders. “Or tried to steal my blood.”

“Well—well I’m not going to do that. I never took the blood.” This is dangerous territory, but… “Unkar just had me sell it and move it. And take it. I think to keep me hanging around once I was addicted. I don’t think even he would’ve been stupid enough to—”

“I know who Unkar Plutt is. I know all the blood thieves, Miss Niima. I don’t necessarily know their underlings—like you.”

I nod, rubbing my thumbs on my glass of water. Being Unkar Plutt’s underling was never what I wanted.

Mr. Ren finishes my food in a handful of minutes: scrambled eggs with some vegetables mixed in, bacon, and at some point he made toast on wheat bread. I thank him but it’s hard to eat. I know it’s only meant to fatten me up, and he leans against the counter to watch me.

But at least he isn’t going to kill me. I chew my eggs slowly, keeping my eyes down. That’s good, I guess.

“Your therapist tells me you read at a third grade level. Left school in fourth grade.” I nod stiffly. “How do you perform your job, then?”

“I don’t have problems with numbers,” I mutter. “I can read well enough to get by.”

Mr. Ren doesn’t respond. I finish eating my breakfast and he gives me a third glass of water before taking my plate and silverware. I’m not stupid or anything. School was hard and I was busy working for Unkar.

“Your kind often has difficulty with written language,” Mr. Ren says. He’s rinsing my plate and sets it in the dishwasher. “Very nomadic species that dislikes man-made things.”

“Humans dislike man-made things?”

He closes the dishwasher and smiles at me after he turns it on. Back to the green blood conundrum. Is he going to tell me what’s going on with that?

“Let’s go upstairs, little one,” he murmurs.

Of course.

I follow Mr. Ren up a set of black iron stairs to the second floor, which is just as big as it seemed last night. He leads me past a few doors and pauses to let me use the bathroom.

It’s the same one from the night before when he gave me a bath. I lean on the door for a moment and shiver. Hopefully that doesn’t happen again.

When I emerge he’s there waiting. I cross my arms and shiver, and he motions for me to follow him.

“I would like you to rest once a day around this time,” he says offhandedly. His black shoes click on the hardwood. “Eleven o’clock or so. I’ve already spoken to Mister Dameron about it.”

“You told my boss I’m going to take _naps_?”

Mr. Ren stops dead, turning so fast that I bump right into him. His hands are in his pockets and he’s giving me that threatening smile. I cower.

“I will be preparing your food,” he continues, searching my face. “Clothing, makeup. We’ll review more when you wake up from your _rest,_ Miss Niima.”

He turns and continues walking. I grit my teeth and pad after him in my new socks.

We reach the end of the hall and he opens another door into a bedroom. The lights aren’t on and it’s very dark with the windows blinded, but I can make out a large bed in the middle of the room. Why does he have a bed? Vampires don’t sleep.

The door closes. I blink hard, immediately on edge in the darkness.

Hands wind over my hips and I jump, drawing a chastising click of Mr. Ren’s tongue. His fingertips slide under the hem of my leggings as he gently guides me into his embrace but I squirm, anxious, and he lets me stumble away.

My heart pounds as I turn to face him. His eyes glow faintly green.

“I… I know you’re punishing me—”

“I’m not punishing you.” His eyes tilt but I can’t see the rest of him. There’s a pause. “Not yet.”

I swallow, throat tight. _Not yet_.

“I just want to go home,” I say for the hundredth time. “If you want my blood we can do withdrawals at the bank, s-sir.”

Mr. Ren’s eyes close for a second and he sighs softly. He takes a step toward me. It’s like his eyes are floating. Like this is a nightmare.

“I like the way you call me ‘sir.’” He ambles another step and I move back. “You’ll be saying it much more when we play later this evening.”

“The—the blood bank is a lot cleaner,” I continue, pushing through his terrifying comment. “They can purify the blood and bag it and I don’t mind doing it that way.”

“But half the pleasure of feeding is in the frantic, pitiful little ways you resist my advances.” There’s a telltale click. “Feeling your pulse slow each time I take a mouthful of you—my fangs sliding through your warm soft skin. It is… exquisite.”

He seizes my arm. I jerk back, only managing a surprised whimper, but this time he doesn’t let go. He grabs my other arm, walking forward so I’m forced to move backwards. I don’t know where I’m going. I can only see his eyes and I catch a glint of his fangs.

I could tolerate a needle and an hour in the blood bank. I can’t tolerate him biting me whenever and wherever he pleases and draining me until I’m semi-conscious. I can’t stand it. I hate the bite marks; I hate him pinning me down and the loud wet squelch of his fangs piercing my skin. I hate feeling my blood rushing out of my body. I _hate it_.

The back of my legs bump into the edge of the bed. Mr. Ren cups my face and I grasp his wrists, heart leaping in my throat.

“Shh… shh,” he whispers. His lips brush my forehead, then he lowers his gaze, forcing me to meet his eyes. “If you can’t be a good girl and lie down for me, I’m going to turn off all the lights in the house. Is that what you want?”

I shake my head quickly and he mimics me. Tears come, hot and wet down my cheeks, and I only just manage to stifle a sob. He’s still staring into my eyes, like he’s staring right through me. I’m hyper aware once more that I’m a mouse in the paws of a tiger, and he’s just batting me around.

“Oh goodness. Oh dear.” Mr. Ren shushes me and wraps me in a very unwelcome embrace, in which I struggle. “My poor, tired little girl. I’ve kept you up for far too long, haven’t I?”

“Please—I want to go home. I want to go home.”

His eyes blur, then I realize I’m in the bed, nestled under the covers with his arm around my middle. I claw at the sheets to escape but Mr. Ren grabs my hand and pins it against my chest. He rubs my knuckles with his thumb, murmuring in my ear, broad chest pressing against my back.

“I have to find some special restraints. Iron won’t agree with my little one.” He coils tighter around me and I sob. “I know. I know. Cry as much as you need to.” Fangs brush my neck. “I’ll be right here waiting.”

So I cry and cry, and eventually I fall asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my CRACK

My dreams are fitful and strange. I wake up a couple times, breathless and disoriented, and Mr. Ren is always right there to lull me back to sleep. It’s been years since I slept this long. Usually I’m too busy… working, or the vampire blood makes it impossible to sleep.

But here I’m sleeping well. I’m not sure why.

Tugging on my wrists wakes me for the final time. I frown, writhing my legs and trying to turn on my side—and find my wrists are restrained.

My eyes slowly widen as I pull on the rope. I twist my hips to see but it’s too dark to make out anything except the faint outline of thick rope tying me to the headboard. Oh no—no, no, no—

No amount of yanking is getting me free. I try turning on my stomach to pull the ropes but just end up with rope burn and cut off circulation. I’ve been changed into a gown again and I know what Mr. Ren is going to do when he realizes I’m awake. I have to get out of here. Now. Right now.

Then the door opens.

I freeze, legs drawn up, one hand wrapped around the thickest part of the rope looped through the headboard. Mr. Ren has a glass of water and an orange bottle of pills, and he’s changed into a black T-shirt with gray sweatpants. I bet he’s going to throw them away once they’re stained with my blood.

He closes the door, and reaches over to turn on the bedside lamp. It casts a bit of light; just enough for me to see his smile as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“I have something for you.” He sets the glass of water down and twists open the pill bottle. “This will make you nice and relaxed.”

I watch him shake out a white pill before he sets the bottle on the nightstand. He leans over, pressing it between my lips before I can think to resist, and he gently cups the back of my head to make me drink. My heart pounds so hard I think it might explode and I squirm, shaking my head and whimpering.

He shushes me, tilting the glass so I’m forced to drink. I grope at his wrist.

“Shh…” He smiles at my spluttering. “Nice and relaxed. I don’t want you squirming _too_ much while we play.”

After the pill is down Mr. Ren sets the glass of water on the nightstand. I watch him stand and pull off his shirt and the light casts shadows across scars running down his broad back. My breaths get faster and more panicked and he absentmindedly shushes me.

“Please—” I shake my head, pressing my thighs together. I think he’s going to wind up killing me. He glances at me over his shoulder and I’m suddenly mute again, holding back tears. Please don’t.

He’s on top of me in a blur, one cold hand grasping my thigh and gliding up towards my knee. I almost scream and yank on the ropes, digging my heels into the mattress. I _hate_ how fast he moves.

Mr. Ren inhales as the tip of his nose trails up my throat. His hand slides down my thigh toward my hip.

“Shh, shh.” He kisses my jaw, whispering, fingers creeping under my dress. “I’m half-tempted to leave you intact. To keep your blood sweet.”

I squeeze my eyes shut at the brush of his fingertips up my stomach, shivering. My arms are starting to feel heavy.

His fangs pop when his roaming touch reaches my breast. I wince, expecting him to bite, but his fangs lightly drag along my skin instead, fingertip teasing my nipple. I try not to move. I’m already terrified he’s going to kill me by accident—ancient vampire or not, they can all get overstimulated.

“And to think,” Mr. Ren whispers, “that I was going to kill you and leave your corpse to rot in your miserable little apartment.” He sighs, tracing the underside of my breast with his fingertip. “What a waste that would have been.”

I swallow, anxiety fading into drowsiness. Tingles trail down to the tips of my toes and my fingers, radiating out from a growing warm spot in my stomach. I resist the heavy calm that gradually settles in my muscles and bones but I’m helpless against it. Like everything else in my life.

My eyelids flutter shut. I struggle to keep them open and squirm while Mr. Ren kisses my neck. It’s happening fast—whatever he made me take is kicking in really quick.

I huff, whimpering.

“Help…” My voice comes out scratchy and soft. I pull weakly on my restraints. “H-Help…”

His hand smooths down my stomach straight between my legs. I pant and shake my head and he presses his forehead against my temple, shushing me. His cold fingertip traces my slit through my panties.

Mr. Ren slips his middle finger through the side of my panties and I twitch, jaw clenching. His cold skin grazes mine as he resumes tracing his touch from my clit to my entrance, torturously slow, lingering and gently pressing his middle finger just inside me.

“You’re okay,” he whispers. I whine as his finger pushes deeper and he groans. “I know—I know. My nervous little girl. You’re so _tense_.”

My legs writhe, twisting the sheets around my ankles, insides tightening. He eases his finger inside me up to the knuckle and nuzzles my neck as I struggle not to break down into tears. I’m helpless like this, and he’s violating me, and he’s treating me like a child, and I’m terrified he’s going to bite me.

His finger strokes along my front wall, pumping languidly back and forth. He’s sucking on my neck, offhanded in his placating murmurs now. Distracted.

Fangs nick just above my collar bone. I whimper but can’t jerk away, too weak and drowsy.

Mr. Ren cups my head with his other hand, taking a sharp breath that comes out like a hiss. He seals his lips over the small spot and I feel my blood pull for a split second before he stops, leaning back, finger withdrawing from my body.

His hazy green eyes swim through the weak light from the bedside lamp. I can barely see him but I feel his cold hands settle on my knees and squeeze.

“My beautiful little fairy girl.” His palms glide down my thighs, slowly parting them. “You’re so lovely. I can’t resist tasting you.”

Nails drag down my inner thighs. His thumb presses on the throbbing spot in my left thigh, rubbing, and his green eyes float lower until they’re even with the plane of my stomach.

Mr. Ren doesn’t blink. He kisses just above his thumb, gaze wandering away from mine. My skin tingles where he trails kisses up my inner thigh to my groin.

I swallow, throat dry. My wrists are limp above my head.

“F-Fairy girl?” I rasp.

Mr. Ren hums. He’s grasping my hips, sliding his thumbs under the hem of my panties.

“My beautiful fairy girl,” he repeats, mumbling. His hooded green eyes roam back to mine as he pauses on my inner thigh. “Stay nice and still.”

He bites.

I’m too loopy to scream or jerk away, I just gasp, heart skipping a beat as Mr. Ren’s fangs glide through my skin. He grips my thigh and seals his lips but I still feel blood pour down my thigh, and I glimpse the strange sickly green color staining the white sheets. He drinks and drinks and his groan drop into guttural growls that make my spine prickle.

Fangs slip free. He licks up my blood that’s run down my thigh, huffing like a hungry dog. My fingertips are numb.

“Fuck—” he breathes. His irises are brighter green, eerie and alien in the semi darkness. I hear the sheets tear. “Just a little more, draga mea. Just a little more.”

I’m not sure what he’s saying. He bites my other thigh and I only manage a surprised whimper before he’s draining me, blood coming in long pulls, dribbling down my leg. He catches some with his fingers and pulls his fangs free, cleaning his hands and panting.

I’m delirious. My thighs tremble while he licks them with his rough tongue and I break down into soft sobs. I want to go home. I’m cold.

“Oh, my sweet girl. Oh goodness.” Mr. Ren shushes me tenderly and twists the hem of my panties around his fist. “Shh, shh. Tati is going to be very gentle with you.”

My panties are torn off, and he crawls up my body, just a little too fast to be human. I see his green-smeared mouth and his haunting bright eyes discolored from my blood and I sob and weakly twist my wrists in their bonds.

Mr. Ren grabs my chin in one sticky hand, forcing me to look up at him. His eyes are wild, pupils wide and black, and my insides crawl.

“Oh—oh, no. All these tears from my little one.” He licks his lips, leaning closer, pressing his forehead against mine. I stare in terror. “If you can’t be a warm, soft little girl for tati, he’s going to bite you again.”

My lower lip quivers. He stares right through me, grip hard on my jaw. I don’t want him to bite me again. Please don’t. Please don’t.

Mr. Ren searches my face for another moment. I’m unmoving like he is; lips trembling.

He doesn’t say anything. Cold skin brushes my sensitive inner thighs and I feel foreign blunt pressure between my legs. He watches me, I think in a sadistic way, but I can’t even bring myself to gasp as his cock nudges inside me, thick and hard and warm from being filled with _my_ blood.

I’ve never done this—any of this. I’ve never had time to be with a man, and when taking vampire blood got me aroused I didn’t take a lot of time masturbating.

“Doesn’t that feel nice?” Mr. Ren whispers. I nod, choking on a suppressed sob, and he smiles. “My little fairy girl is such a fast learner.” He pushes deeper, voice dropping when I squirm. “And she has a lovely tight pussy. Very pretty—very soft.”

I’m helpless. He sinks steadily inside me, kissing my cheek when he’s sheathed up to the hilt and my thighs quiver around his hips. I’m stretched; impaled and skewered. Conquered. Utterly helpless.

Mr. Ren’s breathing doesn’t change as he gently rolls his hips, fucking me with all the restraint I think he can manage. He nuzzles into my neck, and I pant with his thrusts, body shifting each time he eases as deep as he can inside me. It twists my stomach. He’s doing this to me with _my_ blood.

His fist clenches my nightgown, gathering it around my waist. Fangs skim my neck.

“Such a lovely pussy,” Mr. Ren repeats. He sounds breathless but vampires can’t be breathless. “You’re so lovely. Tati is going to pamper you.”

 _Pamper_ —if this is pampering, I would hate to see how he intends on punishing me.

I suppose, though, it could be worse. I’m alive, and he isn’t drinking from my neck, and the drug suppresses all the human instincts that scream at me to run. I let my eyes flutter shut while he steadily fucks me, and the rhythm is easy to filter out. He’s going to come and then it will be over.

Mr. Ren exhales on my collar bone, placing a few delicate kisses there. It’s just sex. I’ll be okay.

The rhythm of his thrusts picks up somewhat, and he runs his fingers through my hair, cradling my head as he fucks me harder. I try to keep my breaths measured but they come faster too.

“My good girl,” he whispers in my ear. “Arch your hips a bit for me—ah—that’s it. That’s it.”

The pressure seems to intensify, then Mr. Ren groans, and his hips jerk. I feel strange warmth as he comes inside me and I wonder if vampires can impregnate humans. I don’t think so. I hope not.

I’m relieved that it’s over, though. I swallow and wait for him to catch his breath and roll away. I’ve seen porn. I know how it works.

He kisses my cheek, still buried inside me. Anxiety ices up my nape. It’s supposed to stop. He’s done.

“You didn’t come, little one.”

I lick my dry lips and shake my head. Mr. Ren kisses down to my neck, unhurried.

“I… I did,” I lie.

“Don’t lie to me,” he chastises without missing a beat. His thumb strokes in a smooth circle on my cheek, and he whispers in my ear. “What kind of man lets his little girl go without pleasure during play time?”

“No—no, please—”

“Shh, shh. Just a bit more blood for tati.”

I start to protest—and he bites my neck.


	10. Chapter 10

When I come to, delirious and sore and parched, I find Mr. Ren already staring at me.

I rasp a weak, frightened whimper. He’s lying beside me, eyes wide and bright green. His mouth is smeared with my blood, fangs out, and my wrists are still bound to the headboard. Everything hurts.

He’s dressed, at least: one of his shirts he wears to work, except the sleeves are messily rolled up to his elbows and a couple buttons are open.

Mr. Ren threads his long fingers through my hair and curls closer, eyes unnaturally wide in the darkness. It’s even scarier than when he’s calm and plodding and smiley, and I would cry if I had any fluid left in my body. Maybe I’m dying.

He rests his head on the pillow beside me. His fingers comb absentmindedly through my hair.

“You’ve been asleep for quite a while,” he says. He maintains eye contact when he tries to sheathe his fangs but they click right back into place. “My little Rey needs so much rest.”

My lower lip quivers. I can’t bring myself to say anything.

Mr. Ren traces two fingers along my Cupid’s bow. He swims and the room blurs and my lips tingle. I think I’m going to pass out or throw up.

“I’ll bring water.” He raises his eyebrows, staring at my mouth. “I’ve just had difficulty peeling myself away from you.”

I’m breathing shallow and slow but I hyperventilate when he leans in to kiss me. His long fingers curl around my cheek and his lips brush mine, so light I hardly feel it—then he’s gone in the blink of an eye.

My hands are cold. I can’t feel my fingers. I swallow as I turn slightly to peer up at them and see they’re bright red, which can’t be normal. He has to know it’s cutting off my circulation. He was human, however long ago that might’ve been, and he knows how living things work. I couldn’t escape even if I had my hands free, anyway. He’s a fucking _vampire._

A gentle breeze catches my attention. Mr. Ren has an entire pitcher of water and a glass, both of which he sets on the nightstand. He’s disheveled and his eyes are still wide and frightening, pupils narrowing and blowing out in a cadence like a heartbeat. It’s mesmerizing.

His head tilts. He doesn’t blink—doesn’t attempt his façade of being human.

“…Six hours for plasma,” he mutters. His pale hands flex slowly at his sides and he nods to himself, pivoting mechanically to pour the water. “Three days for blood cells. Much faster than humans.”

I have no idea what he’s muttering about. Most of the past grueling hours are a blur and all I care about is getting some fucking water and getting my hands free.

Mr. Ren raises his head, hearing something I don’t. He sets the water down and vanishes.

My heart plummets through my stomach. Jesus Christ—I’m going to _die_ if I don’t drink some water right now. I think my hands will fall off. I’m going to die here and lose my hands and he will probably keep drinking from my body until it runs cold.

I twist my wrists, heaving and shaking my head. I don’t want to die here. I don’t want to die. I am _not going to die here_.

Something jolts up my arms like I hit my funny bone. I’m too hysterical with terror to know what or how or why, but it fizzles into warmth and spreads into my fingers, and my wrists are suddenly, blissfully free. Rope falls away. There’s a burning smell but I’m too crazed with thirst to investigate.

I scramble upright, hands pulsing as the blood rushes back to them. My fingers are clumsy and cold but I grab the entire pitcher of water and don’t bother pacing myself: it’s cool and fresh. I guzzle it so fast it spills down my chin and I almost choke on an ice cube. I don’t care.

I chew on an ice cube once I’ve had my fill, protectively curled around the half-empty pitcher. I’m dizzy and still scared shitless but it’s easier to think with some fluids. That’s a blessing and a curse.

A lot of last night is lost to me. I think I’m in too much shock to cry. Too worn out.

I’m not even sure how I got my hands free. I look down at them curled around the pitcher, color back to normal. I’m too sluggish to consider the possibilities. I need to go home and sleep—I need to get the fuck out of here before Mr. Ren kills me.

The second I stand up he reappears.

I collapse back on the bed, only able to suck in a sharp, shocked breath. His eyes flicker to the headboard and back to me. Something silver dangles from his fist on a thin chain.

Neither of us speaks for a long minute.

Mr. Ren raises his eyebrows, defrosting first, lifting his hand to show me the necklace he’s holding. It dangles from his middle finger on the chain, twirling slowly.

“Miss Tico dropped by for a visit.”

I stare and don’t speak.

He narrows his eyes and presses his lips together. He’s thinking, much faster than me.

“She had this hidden in her coat pocket.” He swings the chain around his finger and grabs the pendant, a worn cross. “Silver. She claims she wore it to work this morning and removed and pocketed it. I think she intended on giving it to you—without knowing, of course, that I am immune to silver and crucifixes.”

I don’t say anything. I’ll make it worse, and I’m sure he’s wondering how I got my hands free.

Mr. Ren swings the necklace around his finger again, cocking his head. He’s eyeing the rope. He’s lucid now; probably pissed off thanks to Rose.

“I see you enjoyed your water,” he says.

“…I needed it.”

His eyebrows raise. He keeps spinning the cross.

“It appears so.” His expression stays calm and blank but I hear an edge in his voice. “Weren’t your wrists bound, little one?”

I’m not sure what to say. I stare at him and he stares back at me, and only the soft whir of the cross breaks the tense silence.

“Tati asked you a question.”

Mr. Ren doesn’t blink when I shake my head, thawing from sheer terror. I don’t know. I don’t know what happened, but I can’t take any more of this.

He catches the cross and sighs.

“I suppose we’ll have to do this the hard way.”

There’s a blur of black—and he’s on top of me, gleaming white fangs bared. I only manage a soft whimper and my hands come up to push on his chest, uselessly at first, then—

Heat flares up my forearms.

Mr. Ren’s green eyes flicker down along with mine, and we both see my hands glowing faintly pink against his chest.

We watch, equally surprised, as his shirt burns away. I stop before I touch his skin and don’t move a muscle.

Mr. Ren clicks his tongue, still looking at his shirt.

“…Interesting,” he says.

I quickly push my hands forward hoping to burn him but he’s still much faster than I am. He’s gone in a blink, green eyes glowing from across the room.

My hands are still _glowing_ and I scramble to my feet, wielding them like weapons. I have no idea what’s happening but he doesn’t seem to like it. Glowing hands, green blood—I need to go to a hospital. I think I’m radioactive.

“Stay away from me!” I warn, voice shaking as much as my knees.

Mr. Ren doesn’t respond. He watches me fumble with the door handle and stumble into the hallway—then I’m running, ears ringing—

He grabs my upper arm.

I shriek and spin around with my hands outstretched in the darkness. It illuminates the hall enough that I can make out Mr. Ren now standing a couple feet away. He watches me stagger backwards but doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t move. I keep running.

I have no idea where I’m going but I have to go. My heart is pounding by the time I reach a set of stairs, and I feel a cold brush on the back of my arm.

When I turn he isn’t there, and I almost fall down the stairs in my haste to escape. Holy _shit_ —the federal fucking government is going to come find me. Maybe all that vampire blood fucked me up. What the fuck—what the fuck—

I trip down the last step, breathing heavily. Blinded in the darkness, I turn in a couple circles with my trembling hands outstretched, searching for a door. There has to be a door somewhere.

“You’ll be much safer here with me, little one.”

His voice is soft, right in my ear. I spin around but it’s just empty shadows.

I take a step back. Blood pounds in my ears.

“Just… just leave me alone!” I call. I roll my lips and shake my head, struggling to find him. “I’ll hurt you if you keep following me!”

“Others will pick up your scent.” Footsteps move to my right. “And you’re already so tired from playing with tati. Surely you can’t keep running.”

Fingers touch my elbow. This time I hit skin when I whirl around; there’s a strange crackle.

A low hiss follows. Mr. Ren’s green eyes appear a foot in front of me, fangs bared. I scream.

Scared shitless, I make a break for the opposite hall. I bump into an end table and something smashes on the floor, so I keep running; my hands aren’t glowing as brightly now and I’m afraid my time is running out.

I grope along the wall until I find a door handle. I yank and it doesn’t budge, so I frantically search for the deadbolt. Please, please, please—

My hair is pulled, arching my neck back. I yelp but I’m too concerned with pulling the deadbolt to grab at Mr. Ren’s cold fingers in my hair.

“Where are you going?” he whispers. “Doesn’t my orphaned fairy girl like playing with her tati?”

I throw the deadbolt. He’s gone before I can grab his arm, and I don’t hang around to investigate.

Fresh, cold air—I’m outside, and I see street lamps. I stumble out, sobbing as I sag against the railing, too weak to make my way down the steps. I’m still wearing the nightgown. I must look disgusting but I’m _free_ and I’m outside and I’m finally safe.

I have no idea where I am. I stagger down the steps to the sidewalk, swaying on my feet. The street lamps swirl into a mess of orange and yellow and a person walking by calls out to me. I think I respond—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in the words of sookie: I’m a fucking FAIRY


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 👁👄👁

I come to alone in my bed.

For a while I lie there staring at the ceiling with wide eyes, too terrified to move. I’m certain he’s here—he’s probably sitting in the living room waiting for me to wake up. He’s probably going to force himself on me again.

My pulse pounds so hard it makes my ears ring. I strain to hear something; anything through the heavy silence, but there’s nothing there. Just me: my quick breathing, my bounding heart. Vampires can be perfectly still, though. Silent.

I’m sore everywhere. It aches down to my bones as I slowly sit up in bed, huffing and wincing. I’m wearing a clean nightgown and when I reach up to touch my hair with trembling fingers, I find it slightly damp. I think he gave me a bath while I was unconscious. It makes my chest tighten.

He has to be here. He’s just waiting.

I gingerly get out of bed and shuffle to the bedroom door. I peer out into the living room and find it empty, which is a promising sign.

My phone is nowhere to be seen, though. I wander through my apartment, tense and listening for any movement, floor boards creaking under my feet. It’s gone. Mr. Ren must’ve kept it.

It sucks that I can’t call Rose, but I need to go to the hospital—maybe I can call her from there. Mr. Ren drank _a lot_ of my blood and it’s fucking green and also my hands were glowing. Something is wrong. He called me a ‘fairy’ but that was probably just another demented pet name.

I limp back to my bedroom to change, whimpering at the sharp pain in my thighs. Hospital. Then I’ll call Rose.

—•—

The emergency room is packed. I linger for a few minutes, scanning the crowd of people and wringing my hands. I don’t have health insurance but I think green blood is an emergency. Maybe I can do a payment plan—I have a job now. I can… probably pay back the bill.

No I can’t. Who am I kidding?

I back out of the emergency room and hurry outside. What if they see my green blood and call the CIA? What if I really _am_ a fairy?

I never met my parents. I’ve only ever known Unkar and he’s only ever used me to move blood. Never had a real family. I rub my chest, walking quickly down the street, breathing hard. They wouldn’t just abandon me for no reason. Mr. Ren doesn’t know what he’s talking about—he’s just trying to scare me.

It’s way too painful to think I could have a real family that willingly gave me up to Unkar. It can’t be possible.

I don’t have my wallet so I don’t have any money to use the phone booth. I’m hoping to see Hux when I go to work tomorrow, and I’ll ask him to pass a message on to Rose. I’m sure she’s worried about me.

It’s dark by the time I get home. I’m crying again, processing what happened to me bit by bit, covering my mouth and pausing every once in a while just to scream into my hands. It’s mind-numbing. He kidnapped me from my dinner with Rose—he _raped_ me. I think he’s going to wind up killing me.

My hands shake when I unlock my apartment. Sniffling, I shuffle inside, and notice a Tupperware container on the floor.

I stop dead. I stare at it.

My eyes flicker to the living room. I lean slightly to look for any signs of Mr. Ren. He’s here. He has to be here. But after I lock my door and sweep my apartment, I don’t find him.

I don’t touch the Tupperware. There’s a note attached but I pretend I don’t see it. I take a shower and assess my bites and bruises and the raw skin on my wrists. It will heal. Sooner or later.

—•—

Sooner or later comes the next morning.

I gawk at my naked body in the bathroom mirror. All the bruises and cuts and pains are gone, including the bites on my inner thighs. I’m wiped clean.

But I don’t have a lot of time to wonder how I healed so quickly. I want to make sure I’m on time for work, since it’s Wednesday and I’ve missed half the week. Hopefully I’m not fired. I think ‘kidnapped by a crazy vampire’ is a solid excuse.

I get dressed, brush my teeth, and put my hair in a ponytail. I’m almost out the door when I’m stopped by a sudden wave of hunger that’s so strong that it almost doubles me over.

“Ow,” I mutter, flinching and clutching my stomach. I’ve been hungry plenty of times before, but not like this.

My gaze falls upon the Tupperware still sitting near the door. I swallow, wincing again when my stomach twists. No. I’m not eating anything _he_ gave me. I’ll just… grab something from the break room at work. There are usually donuts.

I head out.

It’s a quiet morning; cold and still. I shiver, glancing both ways before I start down the sidewalk.

I’m hoping this is it. Maybe now Mr. Ren realizes I can fight back and he’ll leave me alone. Sure I haven’t been able to make my hands glow again, but he doesn’t know that.

I keep my eyes downcast. I hope he doesn’t know that, anyway. I hope he found a new victim.

Another hunger pang stops me in my tracks. I blink, rubbing my stomach and frowning at how it twists into my throat. Jesus. Must be from practically being starved in captivity—I’ve already drunk enough water to flood my entire tiny apartment.

“Hello.”

I turn slightly at the unfamiliar voice. It’s a small man standing a couple feet behind me, pale, fangs out, eyes jet black. He’s dressed like he’s going to an office job and he’s smiling faintly at me. He undulates his fingers in an eerie wave.

I stare at him. Why is a random vampire talking to me?

He shuffles closer and I take a step back. Why are his eyes black? Why is he talking to me?

“I’ve been… following you,” he says in a soft voice. He licks his lips. “You have—an _intoxicating_ scent.”

There are quite a few people around. I take another couple steps back and continue on, palms clammy. He won’t attack me in broad daylight. Just some—

I’m seized by the arm.

I scream, instinctively yanking back. The crowd disperses instead of moving in to help me and I see the vampire open his mouth wide, grabbing my forearm with both pale hands. His eyes are _black_ and I wait for the light to erupt out of my hands but it doesn’t—

The vampire shrieks. He abruptly lets go and I recoil, clutching my arm and staring as he drops to his knees. There’s a metal spike protruding from his chest and black blood pours down the sidewalk towards the drains. I stare at the corpse, breathless.

“I told you it would be dangerous to go outside, little one.”

Passerby give Mr. Ren a wide berth. They whisper and look at the dead vampire at his feet but no one intervenes; no one says a word. I stare at him and he raises his eyebrows. His eyes are green. He’s wearing a sweater and slacks and the silver cross Rose ‘accidentally’ brought to the house.

I teeter back a step. “I’m… I’m going to work.”

“Hux will try to kill you, too.”

No, he won’t. I shake my head and start walking, quickly. No he won’t.

Mr. Ren follows.

“I’m the only one who can protect you without killing you, Rey.”

He appears before me and I almost bump into him. I backpedal, then move around him, and he appears another handful of feet in front of me.

“Please—please leave me alone,” I say, half-begging. I keep walking backwards. “Please, just leave me alone.”

“Shh, shh. Don’t make a scene.”

I’m determined to make a scene. I turn and run.

It’s pointless, but I try anyway. I scream and run, kicking off my heels and racing back the way I came. I don’t know where I’m going—I can’t go home and I can’t go to Rose. I’m just running. It feels better to run than just quietly let him take me.

Mr. Ren appears in front of me. He shushes me when I back away, hands out defensively.

“I’m w-warning you!” I stutter.

“ _Rey_ —I know you haven’t figured out how to control that.” He smiles smugly but still eyes my hands. “Why don’t we discuss this at home, hm? You didn’t eat the food I left you. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

I have no appetite. All I’ve been able to do is drink water.

“I’m not hungry,” I lie.

“Of course you are. Fae are always hungry.”

I’m backed against a brick wall. Mr. Ren stops a foot or so in front of me and I stare up at him. Fae? Fairy? What is he talking about?

He meanders closer and my hands press to his chest. Nothing happens, even though I wish it would. I turn my head when he leans in to nuzzle my hair, shiver running down my spine.

“You’ll be safe with tati, little one,” Mr. Ren whispers. His fangs click and I shudder. “I know what my little fairy girl needs.”

“No—no—”

“Some _food_ —and a nice nap.” He cups my cheek, tilting to expose my throat to him. “Fairies love their food and sleep.”

“No! _No_!”

Heat races up one arm this time—there’s a feeble flash of light but it’s enough to make Mr. Ren recoil, hissing. A stronger hunger pang twists my stomach as I stand there with my hands facing out, the right palm glowing faintly pink. People slow and stare and I glance between them and Mr. Ren, terrified.

I draw my hands back, shaking the right one frantically. Jesus _Christ._ It burns. It keeps burning up my arm towards my neck.

“Stay away from me!” I warn, still shaking my hand.

“ _Rey_ —you need to eat something. You’re decompensating.”

People are really staring now. Some are gathered around the staked vampire, phones out to take pictures and call the police. They’re staring at me and I scurry off the other way, heart racing. Heat gnaws into my chest.

It’s making me dizzy. I try to keep walking but the sidewalk swims and sweat beads on my forehead, blood running thick. I’m… hot. It’s really burning now, raging up along my scalp and into my mouth. Feels like I could breathe fire.

“Come here, little one.”

Something cold brushes the back of my arm. I pull away from it, breathing hard as delirium creeps in—then something cold snaps around my wrist.

The heat dispels in the blink of an eye. I’m struck by pain that’s so acute it takes my breath away, and I sway, glimpsing a metal bracelet around my wrist before I faint.

—•—

I come to in my bed.

There isn’t space in my brain to feel fear. Hunger overrides everything else, even when I see Mr. Ren sitting in a chair at my bedside. My wrist is numb. I claw at my nightstand, struggling to sit upright—I need to _eat_ —I need to eat right now.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay.” His cold fingers brush my wrist and there’s a light click. “I brought you something.”

Fire races up my throat. I rasp helplessly, falling on my back and writhing in pain, and Mr. Ren sits on the edge of my bed. He keeps cooing and whispering as he pulls my trembling body into his lap, resting me in the crook of his elbow. I’m dying. I feel like a star that’s about to collapse.

“Immortality comes at a price, little one.” He kisses the top of my head, reaching over to the nightstand. “All that vampire blood has been suppressing your most unpleasant fae traits—and helping you hide.”

I smell it before I see it. Meat. Raw ground meat. It’s piled to the brim in a deep Tupperware container, garnished with a sprig of parsley, and I can smell it and it twists my hungry stomach.

Mr. Ren scoops some on his fingers and offers it to me. I shake my head and whimper.

“I know,” he murmurs. He rubs my upper arm. “The first few decades I began drinking blood, I would close my eyes. Why don’t you try that?”

Why is he feeding me _raw meat_? People can’t eat raw meat. I’ll get sick.

But he keeps cajoling me and touches it to my lips—it’s cold and the smell is strong. I grimace and try to turn away and he curves his hand to open my jaw.

I struggle. Mr. Ren pushes the raw meat in my mouth. I have every intention of spitting it out until the moment it touches my tongue.

I chew. I’m not sure why I’m chewing. Then I swallow it, and when he offers me more I willingly eat it. Something switches on in my brain and I reach into the container to grab a handful of the raw meat, and I’m shoving it in my mouth, barely chewing. It tastes _good_. It lights up the same spot that makes pumpkin pie taste good.

Mr. Ren pets my hair while I gorge myself. He holds the container so I can use both hands. It’s dark enough that I can’t completely see what I’m eating.

“Nothing cooked, little one. Nothing processed, beyond ground meat.” He gently untangles a knot in my hair. “No breads or pastas—no human food. But I’ll be taking care of your meals for you, so there’s no need to worry.”

I don’t know what he’s talking about. I empty out the container and he offers me another, and the hunger slowly fades, ebbing away with the heat. More ground meat—and I just keep mindlessly eating it.


	12. Chapter 12

It’s dark when I wake alone in my bed. It’s like time has slipped into an endless loop and I’m just drifting in and out of consciousness while it drags me along.

My hunger pains are gone, at least. I sit up slowly, flinching at the soreness in my shoulders and the odd taste in my mouth. Soft sounds and flickering light pour through my open bedroom door—the television is on in the living room. I’m not alone, but I knew I wouldn’t be.

I get out of bed with some difficulty. My body feels… strange, like gravity is acting on me with more force than normal, and I’m being pulled towards the ground. I grab my nightstand for stability and shuffle around the corner of my bedroom door to peer out into the living room. The bracelet on my wrist is heavy and cold.

Mr. Ren is sitting on my couch. He has his elbow crooked on the arm rest, pressing two fingertips to his temple while he watches the news with his faintly glowing green eyes. He keeps watching as I watch him. There isn’t anywhere for me to run.

“Are you hungry, dear?” he asks distractedly.

“…No.”

“Would you like tati to give you a bath?”

“No, but I’m going to take a shower.”

He smiles slowly, revealing his fangs. His eyes don’t leave the television.

“As you wish,” he says.

I’m not comforted by his response. I linger in my bedroom doorway, arms crossed over my chest. He’s going to attack me or something and there isn’t anything I can do about it.

I tighten my arms, glancing at the news. CNN or something. I don’t really watch the news, ever.

“What do I do… now?” I falter. “Where do I go from here?”

Mr. Ren idly lifts his fingers from his temple in a dismissive way.

“Wherever you wish, I suppose.”

I wait, but he doesn’t say anything else. He keeps watching CNN while I go back to my bedroom to pick out pajamas, hands shaking. He isn’t going to just let me go and he’s going to keep beating around the bush. He’s messing with me because I don’t want him to give me a bath.

Mr. Ren is still in the same spot when I shuffle out to the living room with my clothes. I think he knows the answer to my fairy-related questions, and I think I have to play along with him if I want those answers.

I hug my clothes to my chest. “Can you help me, please?”

“With what?”

“A bath. And I have some questions.”

He raises his eyebrows. “I thought my little one wanted to be independent.”

“I need help, please.” I clear my throat. “Tati.”

His smile returns. Mr. Ren laughs, green eyes finally flickering to me from the television. Enduring his direct gaze turns my stomach.

His hand slips away from his temple, draping off the edge of the arm rest. “Such a master manipulator, Miss Niima. _Very_ convincing performance.”

“I’m not trying to—”

“Go take your shower. We’ll have a discussion when you return.”

“But—”

“Go take your shower, dear.”

It’s gentle but firm and I’m very aware that I’m annoying him. I nod, happy to lower my gaze from his, and hurry off to the bathroom.

I expect Mr. Ren to intrude on my shower the entire time I’m washing myself. I quickly clean my hair and scrub my body and hop out of the tub, nearly tripping and hitting my face off the counter. I brush my teeth, eyeing the door, and put on my mismatched pajamas.

After I’m done I study the bracelet he put on my wrist. It’s heavy and cold but when I brush it with my fingertips it burns. I wince, jerking my hand back. Jesus Christ—what _is_ it?

Mr. Ren is in the same spot on the couch when I shuffle out to the living room. He pats the spot beside him and I hesitate before sitting on the other end of the couch. It only puts two feet between us.

I look at my hands in my lap. “What did you put on my wrist?”

“Iron.”

“Iron?”

“Yes.” He flips through channels. I only have a handful. “You don’t need to concern yourself with it, dear. Tati will make sure you’re taken care of.”

“Why?”

Mr. Ren pauses, then turns off the television. My eyes adjust to the semi-darkness but icy fear trickles into my stomach, mind wandering to the recent memory of being chased through his pitch black house. He’s going to do it again. He’s going to bite me again, and… and maybe do even worse things.

He sets the remote on the coffee table. Yellow headlights pass through the window in the front room, bathing the toe of his black shoe. He’s dressed up and I’m cowering in the corner—like always.

“I thought we were going to have a discussion,” I say, trying to be level-headed. “Don’t I deserve to… to understand this?”

“It will only confuse and upset you.” Mr. Ren grasps the back of the couch, smiling as he closes the small space between us. He’s staring down at me and I try to shrink further into my corner, eyes widening. “And I don’t want to upset my little fairy girl.”

“W-Wait—”

He shushes me, cupping my cheek in his cold hand. I recoil when he tries to kiss me but he follows, laughing lightly like I’m teasing him. His kiss lingers for an impossibly long minute as he drapes his arm over my shoulders. I’m trapped.

“Your kind is so easily confused,” Mr. Ren murmurs. His fangs pop and I jump. “It’s why you can’t read, dear. Your simple little fairy brain doesn’t have the capacity for written language.”

I squirm out of his embrace, stumbling to my feet. He watches me from the couch but doesn’t move to stop me from backing away.

“I am… I’m _human_ ,” I insist.

“You can be whatever you wish to be, even if it’s divorced from reality.”

My heart pounds. I rub my forehead, instinctively moving to turn in a circle then thinking better of it. Fairies aren’t real. He poisoned me. He’s fucking with me, the way an ancient vampire could. This is just a nightmare and soon someone will pinch me and it will all be over.

“Fairies aren’t real.” I keep shaking my head. “You’re just tormenting me—this is all part of it.”

“Well they _are_ quite rare.” Mr. Ren leans back to watch me, resting his arm on the back of the couch. “But very real.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. This doesn’t make any sense.”

“Of course it does. Your parents abandoning you aligns perfectly with what we know of fairies.”

I look up at him. He’s watching me like always, eyebrows raised in feigned surprise.

“What…” I swallow. “What do you mean?”

Mr. Ren groans, letting his head tilt back. He’s tapping his foot on the floor, drumming his fingers on the couch. What does he mean?

“Do you understand now why I’ve refrained from telling you this?” he sighs.

“Why would they abandon me?”

“Because that is what fairies _do_ , Miss Niima.”

“They abandon their—?”

He lifts his head so quickly that I draw back in surprise. He’s scowling; I don’t think I’ve ever seen him show so much emotion, particularly anger.

“ _Yes_ , Miss Niima,” he snaps, “they abandon their young—or they exchange them for human infants to use in their rituals, on the rare occasion they mate at all. Fairies are forces of nature and often less human than most vampires. Your parents never wanted you.” He clenches his jaw, head twitching to the side. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Another set of headlights passes through the window. I lower my gaze to the floor to study my feet as the yellow light glides across them. No. I kind of hoped I might find them somehow; that my being abandoned was a mistake. I hoped I was kidnapped or lost and this would end like a fairytale.

But it never works out that way. Even my magic fairy parents didn’t want me. No one does.

I wander out the few steps to the small front room still packed with boxes I haven’t gotten around to throwing away. I’m cold and miserable and I’m trying not to let anything Mr. Ren is saying get under my skin because I’m determined not to cry.

I press my lips together as the tears well up.

“Maybe they made a mistake. Maybe Unkar took me to… to sell my blood.”

It’s quiet for a few minutes. I rub my eyes with my sleeve, lower lip quivering as I suppress a sob. Mr. Ren is eerily quiet in the living room.

“I didn’t consider that, little one,” he acquiesces after another pregnant pause.

“He sells vampire blood—I mean, he could…” I stop, shrugging and examining my shaking hands as I twirl my fingers together. “Maybe he found me somewhere and took me.”

“You’re right. I’m sure that’s what happened.”

“They could still be looking for me. Right?”

A slight breeze behind me sends a shiver down my spine. I swallow hard, squeezing my eyes shut as Mr. Ren gently turns my jaw with his cold fingertips. His fangs click.

“I’m sure they are,” he murmurs. His fangs graze my throat. “I would be.”

The bite is slightly gentler than usual. I stiffen, whimpering as he wraps him arm around my middle to hold me in place. He drinks a little slower from my artery, humming in approval when I grasp his forearm to steady myself. The streetlights fuzz together through the curtain and my eyes flutter.

Mr. Ren pulls away, kissing my neck, lips still warm from my blood. He tightens his arm around my waist and kisses a trail up my jaw.

“Tati will take very good care of you, little one,” he whispers. He catches me when I start to slump. “Ah, ah—careful, dear. Let me get you to bed.”

I’m not as delirious as usual when he drinks from me, but as always, it feels like my brain is being squished.

He lays me crossways on my bed so my knees dangle off. I frown when he lifts my wrist to take off the bracelet, and there’s a surge of energy the handful of seconds after it’s off. I notice my wrist has turned black, but _also_ notice it begins fading almost instantly. Wow. That’s strange.

Mr. Ren places a few pillows under me, and he’s still standing at the edge of the bed. He never does anything slow, and I hardly recognize his weight on top of me before I feel his cock. I squirm and clench his biceps and he kisses me roughly on the neck, pushing in, ignoring how tense I am.

“Why would anyone want to throw away such a lovely little girl?” he coos. I dig my nails into his arms, whimpering at the rough intrusion. “I certainly wouldn’t. I’ll never waste a drop of you.”

I’m not sure how he got my pants off but he’s buried inside me up to the hilt in another confusing second, and I can only gasp in surprise. _Jesus_ —

“Tati has a big cock, hm?” Mr. Ren’s hips roll, drawing back slowly and pushing in, making me arch and moan. “That’s right, little one. Tell tati how much you love his big cock.”

My small bed creaks and bumps against the wall and drowns out my anguished cry when he bites my neck. He shivers, lips sealing over my skin as he takes long pulls of my blood, but I still feel warm wetness sliding down my collarbone. He stops himself with a pained groan before I start blacking out.

I don’t say a word. Mr. Ren licks the blood from my neck, grunting like a wild animal as he fucks me, pinning me to my bed with his immense weight. I cling to his biceps and try to ignore the way he’s moving inside me and how unfortunately good it feels. I wish it didn’t. It didn’t last time.

He groans gutturally. “You’re so warm— _god_ , you’re so warm—” He nudges my jaw with the tip of his nose to whisper in my ear. “Your quivering inside—and your little heart is pounding. Are you going to come for tati?”

“N-No—”

“Oh, don’t be shy. Don’t be shy.” Mr. Ren kisses my jaw and the tips of his fangs prick my skin. His voice slips into a soft whisper. “Don’t be shy, little one.”

I’m helpless to resist. I shake my head but it comes, and I come, gasping and shaking and squeezing my eyes shut so I can pretend it isn’t happening. It feels so good I want to cry and I bury my face in the crook of his neck to hide my tears. I tremble from head to toe, tense, clinging to him.

Mr. Ren presses his cheek against the side of my head. “Good girl. Now stay very still for me, please—I don’t want to kill you.”

It’s the easiest thing he’s ever asked of me. I resist my trembling lower lip while Mr. Ren finishes having his way with me, slapping a hand on the wall behind my head to catch his weight as he pounds into me. His breathing only slightly shifts, like an afterthought to pretend he’s human. He comes inside me, exhaling in relief into my hair as he slowly pumps his hips.

I’m less in danger of fainting than I usually am. I swallow when he stills, hand sliding from the wall to curl around the back of my head. He kisses my hair.

“Tati knows what’s best for you, little one,” he murmurs. He nuzzles my cheek. “Doesn’t he?”

I nod quickly. I’m not going to disagree when he’s inches away from my carotid artery.

Mr. Ren nods in agreement, kissing my cheek. He doesn’t say anything more and doesn’t get up. His rambling kisses wander across my face to my neck, and a minute later he’s languidly fucking me again.

I close my eyes, digging my heels into the edge of my mattress. Maybe he does know what’s best. I certainly don’t know anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter: @malreverie  
> carrd: malevolentreverie.carrd.co

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Fine Vintage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26781178) by [Cheshire_Smile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheshire_Smile/pseuds/Cheshire_Smile)
  * [P.O.'s Plaything](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29273349) by [Mdesa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mdesa/pseuds/Mdesa)




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